Ebony Castle

After everyone had finished the dinner Jean had prepared, it began snowing lightly again outside. On his way back from helping Jean carry the empty dishes to the kitchen, Doha paused by the door leading to the garden and looked outside.The window the gardener had broken during the Christmas party was still boarded up with wooden planks, but through the adjacent window, the dark garden was visible. Snow was piling up on Jean’s vegetable patch and the tilted scarecrow. According to the weather forecast, the snow would melt soon enough, but for now, everything up to the edge of the forest was covered in white.If the snow piled up like it did before Christmas and blocked the road out of the estate completely, I wouldn’t have to return to London. That thought crossed his mind for a moment, and his heart grew heavy. The snow wouldn’t fall forever, so how long did he plan to cowardly defer his worries, relying on the situation?Just as he turned to head to practice, burdened by these thoughts, he heard a faint sound from the opposite side of the hall.“…Mr. Locke?”The footsteps sounded like his. Doha called out, unsure, and indeed, a man appeared around the stairs on the second floor and turned his head. The moment his expressionless face spotted Doha, it softened with a faint warmth.“Eden. What are you doing there?”The high ceiling of the hall carried Locke’s low question to Doha. Even though they had spent the entire afternoon in the same space, reading their own books, it felt like seeing him again after a long time. Doha’s complex thoughts vanished. He took a few small steps toward Locke as he answered.“It seems to be snowing.”“…So it is.”Locke stopped in front of the window where Doha had just been standing. His gray eyes lingered on the dark sky. Doha stood beside the tall man, both looking out at the snowy forest.After a while, Locke asked without taking his eyes off the window, “Are you going to practice?”“…Yes.”Only then did his gaze find Doha’s face. Locke silently studied his expression, as if trying to read beyond it.“You could skip tonight’s practice, just for one day.”Doha had already fallen short on practice today, preferring not to leave the library, but still, he found himself nodding, as if in a trance. Naturally, he took Locke’s extended hand.They walked back up to the second floor together. Tristan led him past the still-open door to the dining room and into the music room, which they hadn’t visited in a while. The armchair that had been there was now placed beside Doha’s piano, and in its place stood a chair that resembled the one Doha had used last time. Tristan picked a chair and sat down, murmuring.“It’s a bit chilly.”The fireplace was out, probably because he hadn’t intended to come here in the evening.“Oh… Please sit down. I’ll take care of it.”Doha hurried to find Jean’s basket of firewood, but Locke didn’t release his hand. Doha paused and looked down at him. The nobleman spoke calmly.“Sit down. That’s what servants are for.”Doha had no choice but to sit in the remaining chair. With a single phone call from Tristan, Hazel soon entered with Jean’s firewood basket, stoked the fire, and left. Shortly after, she returned with a tea tray that held what looked like an antique teapot and teacups, setting everything up. It seemed Jean had quickly prepared it in the kitchen. Ulysses, drawn by the noise, came in and curled up near Tristan’s chair. Everything about the process seemed natural and routine, except for Doha, who sat awkwardly on the edge of his seat.After filling the teacups and giving a polite bow, Hazel left. Without a word, Tristan slid a plate of cookies toward Doha.“If you’d prefer something else, just let me know.”“Alright.”Ulysses, lying on the floor, made a little snuffling sound in his sleep. Mascagni’s soft music was playing through the speakers.Doha gradually leaned back in his chair, thinking that if he stayed in this mansion, moments like this would become a part of his daily life. If there were no concerts or competitions to prepare for, he’d have more time to enjoy listening to other people’s music. When he closed his eyes, the melody of an aria written over a century ago filled his ears. The crackling of the fireplace, the soft breathing of the dog curled up at his feet, and the quiet presence of Tristan Locke nearby blended with the music.The faint scent of tea lingered in the air. Doha, who had once suffered from numb hands, now picked up his cup with ease and took a sip of the tea, appreciating the chef’s delicate touch. The atmosphere was so peaceful it made him sleepy. The golden light from the fire flickered on the fur of the sleeping dog.“Thanks to Eden taking him for a walk, he’s calm tonight.”Tristan spoke, still watching the same scene.“…He didn’t seem tired at all earlier, but I guess he wore himself out after all.”“He doesn’t have the same stamina he used to. When he was a puppy, even after being out all day, he still had energy to spare.”Just as Tristan said, Ulysses barely stirred, only twitching his ears occasionally at the sound of their voices. By now, the opera had moved on to the next track. Watching Ulysses’ steady breathing, Doha recalled a thought he had in the forest. As Ulysses had led the way home, Doha had wondered about something.“Is Ulysses’ name from Greek mythology?”“……”Tristan paused, as though caught off guard by the unexpected question. Doha looked up and saw Tristan’s golden eyelashes flutter slowly once.“Most people ask if it’s from James Joyce.”Tristan chuckled lightly as he reached down to gently stroke between the dog’s ears.“But you’re closer to the truth. It’s from Lord Tennyson’s Ulysses.”“……”“Have you read it?”Doha shook his head as he set his teacup down. Tristan’s eyes narrowed, as if something amused him.“Now that I think about it, Ulysses resembles you quite a bit.”“Pardon?”“There’s a copy in the library. You should read it when you have the chance. It’s about an extraordinary man, still burning with passion even in old age. Not exactly what you’d call an ordinary person, but I think you’d understand him easily, Eden.”“……”The nuance was subtle enough that it didn’t quite feel like a compliment. Just then, there was a deep sigh, and Doha glanced down. The retriever named after the Greek hero seemed to be dreaming, as his front paw slowly moved in his sleep. His thick tail wagged faintly as he rested.“You seem to like dogs,” Tristan said with a hint of amusement in his voice.“…Yes, I do.”Doha answered, feeling somewhat caught off guard.“Have you ever raised one?”“No. I’ve wanted to since I was young, but with practice, I couldn’t find the time to take care of one.”“I can imagine. Did you have any family with you in Korea?”He asked naturally, and Doha answered without hesitation.“I lived alone with my mother. She was busy with work as well.”“Then why didn’t she come to London with you?”“….”Doha, still staring at Ulysses’ black nose, answered a beat later. It wasn’t a difficult story, but since he hadn’t brought it up to anyone before, it felt unfamiliar.“She was originally supposed to come. I was to settle here first, and once I established a stable life, she would join me. She wanted to leave Korea too.”“I see.”“But while I was attending university here, she remarried, and now she lives with my stepfather and his children. The kids are young, so she’s been quite busy.”Actually, that was several years ago. Aside from brief, formal messages, the last time they had real contact was two years ago when Doha was diagnosed with Neim. At that time, his mother had hesitated for a long time before asking, “So, should I come to Korea? You’ll need someone to take care of you, right?” When Doha told her that the medical facilities in the UK were better for his condition and that he could manage on his own as before, there was a trace of relief in her voice when she responded, “Is that so?”When Doha first came to London, his mother would grow anxious if he didn’t answer her calls even for a single day, and sometimes she’d express her frustration. But after she remarried, the frequency of their calls decreased—from once every three days, to once a week, to once a month. Around that time, Doha’s life had stabilized. Classes, practice, preparing for competitions, and occasional meals with Julian or other classmates—there wasn’t much news to share. In the early days of his studies abroad, his mother knew every detail of his classes, including his professor’s name. But at some point, she began to forget even his friends’ names, often responding with, “Who?” whenever Doha mentioned them.“It must have been quite a shock to suddenly have half-siblings,” Tristan said.“I also suddenly found out I had a half-sibling, so I understand how you feel.”“….”Doha, who knew about Locke’s family history through articles rather than from Tristan himself, hesitated to speak. He wasn’t sure how much to acknowledge or whether pretending not to know would offend Tristan. Seeing Doha’s uncertainty, Tristan smiled faintly and added, “Living alone in London all this time must have been lonely.”“…I was busy with school, so I don’t think I felt it much.”“Think about it. You might not have realized it at the time, but I bet you were lonely.”Doha had been taking Tristan’s words as gentle, lukewarm comfort, but suspicion crept into his thoughts, causing him to stare at the man’s face. Tristan, with an unbothered expression, continued, “Wouldn’t living in a house full of people be less lonely?”“…Are you trying to persuade me right now?”“Is there some law against persuasion?”He answered so matter-of-factly that Doha was momentarily at a loss for words. Ulysses, briefly awake, shook his body and moved closer to the fireplace before curling up again.“Eden,” Tristan said.“Do you really have no intention of living here?”Surprised by the sudden question, Doha met his gaze.“Does this offer hold no appeal for you?”“That’s not it.”Before he knew it, he found himself replying to Tristan’s low, sinking voice.“I… don’t know. I’m not even sure anymore what it is I’ve been wanting by playing the piano….”The moment he inadvertently voiced that tangled knot of confusion, Doha felt his throat tighten.For the past few days, as Tristan’s offer had shaken him, Doha couldn’t understand why he was even considering it. Every time he regained his senses, a wave of self-betrayal washed over him. How could he be like this? The fierce competition to become a soloist had been his entire life. Being swayed so easily now felt like denying his very existence, like admitting that all his efforts had been meaningless—pouring water into a leaky vessel.As Tristan quietly watched Doha’s face, he rose from his seat and stoked the dying embers in the fireplace, stirring them into a blue flame. Bright sparks shot up toward the chimney like scattered stars.After returning to his seat, Tristan calmly spoke.“I may never fully understand you.”“….”“I’ve never wanted something as desperately as you have. But, as you said, I think it’s important for you to really think about what your goal is.”His long legs stretched neatly across the rug.“If it’s about earning a high income or becoming famous, then yes, you should return to London. But if that’s not the case… wouldn’t it be better to avoid wasting your precious time on the meaningless standards of the world? That way, you can truly face your music and make completion a matter of your own judgment, not the world’s.”“….”“I just want you to know that I’m not asking you to give up on the piano, but the exact opposite.”“I understand.”At that, Tristan smiled slightly.“That’s a relief.”The interlude of the music quietly filled the room. Doha hesitated for a moment, clutching his cold teacup, before speaking cautiously.“If I stay here… what do you get out of it?”A few months ago, this man had gone out of his way to show his disgust and push Doha away. Now, he was asking him to stay. The change was striking.Tristan blinked, taken aback by the question. He opened his mouth as if to respond but then closed it again. After a pause, he finally said slowly, “For starters, I get to hear your piano whenever I want.”“….”“And I get to be with you whenever I want.”Neither of those things had been available to Tristan before Doha arrived. A while ago, he’d mentioned wanting to hire a pianist, and judging by his obsession in the bedroom, it was surprising he hadn’t had a partner all this time. With that perspective, Doha found Tristan’s offer more understandable and nodded in silent agreement.Still, it struck him how much had changed since the fall, when he’d first started visiting this mansion. He’d gone from being an unwanted intruder, begging for help, to someone who could provide a function for Tristan, much like Jean or Hazel. If he could spend time in the same space without bothering him, as they had today, then maybe, just maybe, he could hope for a relationship that would last longer and more steadily.Tristan leaned back in his chair, seemingly no longer intent on persuading Doha. He sat comfortably, a nobleman in a warmly lit room, with a golden retriever peacefully sleeping at his feet. It was a scene Doha had witnessed shortly after arriving here, and now he realized there was a place for him within that picture. Closing his eyes, he acknowledged the complexity of his feelings.***The sound of the hall door opening quietly reached his ears. As Doha finished the final few measures of the first movement of the sonata, he lifted his hands from the piano. Instead of moving into the second movement, he turned to see Hazel approaching from the back of the audience, holding out a phone.“We were cleaning the guest room, and it rang several times.”“Oh, thank you.”He glanced at the missed calls displayed on the screen. Doha checked his phone and set it down. Hazel asked, “Do you need anything? Should I prepare some tea or snacks for you?”“No, it’s nearly dinnertime. Jean would scold me if I ate something now.”“Yes, you’re right… Jean…” Hazel replied a bit late, her expression strange. When Doha blinked in confusion, she quickly shook her head as if to clear her thoughts.“It’s nothing. Just let me know if you need anything.”“Yes, thank you for bringing this.”He gestured toward the phone, and she smiled before turning to leave. Doha watched her disappear behind the door, then turned the phone back on. As expected, two missed calls from Niklas were displayed. After a moment of hesitation, he finally pressed the call button.— Eden! You’re still hard to reach, even in the new year.Niklas answered immediately.— Are you at home? You’ve returned to London, right?“No, I’m still in Scotland.”— What?Niklas’s voice carried confusion, as expected.— But it’s January 6th already!“Yes, it is.”— Is it still snowing in Scotland?“No, it’s not.”The sky was clear and blue, and the snow had long melted. Peter had even called earlier, asking when he planned to leave since the roads were now clear enough to get to the airport.“Somehow, I ended up staying longer.”As the words left his mouth, he realized how strange they must sound to someone outside the estate. There was a brief pause on the other end, before Niklas spoke, his voice tinged with skepticism.— Eden, have you gotten close with Tristan Locke?“Well, ‘close’ might be a bit much…”— That’s impressive. After he initially refused to help you so harshly! You really struggled because of him.“Yes, I did.”— And don’t forget, the whole reason your career is where it is now is because of his family. Aren’t you trusting him too easily? You know how dangerous the Locke family is. I understand you’re kind, Eden, but you should be more cautious.Doha pressed his forehead against his arm, resting on the music stand. Niklas’s voice echoed as if coming from a distance. After a while of lecturing, he finally asked:— So, have you booked your ticket?“Not yet.”— You need to hurry. You have to return to London before the snow hits again next week, or you’ll get stuck there.“…”It was strange. It hadn’t been that long, but he couldn’t clearly remember what the snowy streets of London looked like. His memories of the city had grown thin and blurry, as if covered in dust. His flat in the East End and Niklas’s sleek office now felt distant, like places he’d left behind long ago.Sensing Doha’s silence, Niklas kept talking.— Anyway, Mr. Jean asked when you’ll be dropping by the office again. He’d like to know so he can plan accordingly.“The exact date?”— Yes.Doha considered for a moment before responding.“Can I speak with Richard directly?”— Um…Doha assumed Niklas was still at the office, but instead of transferring the call, Niklas hesitated awkwardly.— I’m not sure…“Is he unavailable?”— Well, he’s here, but he seems really busy at the moment.Doha understood what Niklas meant and remained silent. Sensing the tension, Niklas hurriedly continued.— He’s got a recital scheduled for the end of January, along with other commitments. Julian’s tour is happening as well… I know you have your own circumstances, but if you could make it by mid-January, that would be ideal.Niklas’s voice was faster and more emotionless than before, perhaps a sign of his growing efficiency as a company employee. Doha sighed and spoke softly.“Okay. I’ll get in touch once I finalize my return date.”— Great! Have a good day!The call abruptly ended. Doha stared at the blank screen for a moment before placing the phone on the edge of the piano. He gazed at the first measure of the second movement of the sonata, but eventually reached for the phone again.Checking the weather forecast, Niklas was right—by next week, a thick blanket of snow clouds would cover most of the UK. Doha opened the flight booking page and selected a date from the small calendar. Tomorrow felt too rushed, but the day after would likely work, and Peter would probably agree. There were still plenty of available tickets.He went as far as the payment page before closing the window. No one was chasing him, but his heart raced uncomfortably fast, making him feel uneasy.Closing the lid, he stepped back toward the audience seats, still holding his phone. He sat down on the wooden chair where Jean usually sat and stared at the empty stool.Sometimes when he woke up in the middle of the night, the small light beside the bed would be on. In those moments, he could make out Tristan sitting upright, leaning against the bed’s headboard, through his blurry vision. Tristan’s gray eyes seemed distant, as if they were focused on something other than the bedroom in front of him, as though he, too, had worries stealing his sleep in the early hours.“……”Doha averted his gaze from the piano entirely, staring instead at his phone screen. He pressed the link Julian had sent him via text, taking him to Julian’s SNS page.It was a link Julian had shared after posting a picture Doha had taken of him in the practice room some time ago. The photo’s familiar composition showed Julian, disheveled hair and all, posing in front of the piano. Below the image, a caption read, “A dear friend I haven’t seen in a while took this for me.” Doha briefly glanced at the photo before navigating back to the main page.‘Julian Svensson, Concert Pianist.’ Beneath a photo of Julian in a tuxedo, there was a high follower count, followed by a stream of pictures. He had posted a recent tour photo, where the white sails of the Sydney Opera House could be seen in the background. Another image showed him in front of a piano, his tailcoat draped elegantly. There was a picture of a pair of expensive sunglasses on a music stand, and a handsome face with a lifted chin. As Doha scrolled down, he stopped. There was a photo of Julian and Richard with their arms around each other, posted just four days ago.Richard’s familiar, friendly smile struck Doha. It was a look he hadn’t seen since Richard’s management contract began and even after the onset of Neim’s symptoms.His head, which had been throbbing all day, now felt like it was going to split open. For some reason, everything on the screen felt tiresome and nauseating. Doha didn’t even bother turning off his phone before placing it on Tristan’s empty chair.Just then, after a brief knock, the hall door opened, and the secretary entered. He paused when he saw Doha in the audience, then spoke in his usual formal tone.“Mr. Eden, are you resting?”“…What’s the matter?”Doha stood up and turned to face him. The secretary, glancing around the hall with his disheveled hair, replied.“We’re looking for Ulysses. The CEO thought he might be here.”“Oh… I haven’t seen him since we went for a walk this morning.”Ulysses had been staying around here while Doha practiced recently, and his cushion was set up next to the chair, but the soft cushion was now empty.“Maybe he went out to the garden alone?”“He usually comes right back when it’s dark. He must be around somewhere.”“Or maybe the kitchen… No, Jean is preparing dinner, so probably not.”“I already checked the kitchen. Jean said he hasn’t seen him either.”“I see.”Doha looked up, noticing a faintly irritated expression on the secretary’s face. He stared at him for a moment before cautiously asking.“Is something wrong?”“Pardon?”“It just seems like…”Even someone as oblivious as Doha could feel the mansion’s atmosphere was unsettled today. Hazel’s tone and behavior earlier hadn’t been normal, either. Though no one had said anything, he began to wonder if he was overstaying his welcome, causing discomfort.“Didn’t you know?”The secretary spoke.“It’s nothing major, just a bit of trouble. Finding a top-tier chef willing to work in a place like this isn’t exactly easy, after all.”“What?”“Jean is quitting.”It took a few moments for Doha to fully process the secretary’s dry words. The secretary, having said all he needed to say, turned to leave. Doha hurried to follow, slipping through the gap between the chairs as he asked.“Since when?”“He said he’d stay until they find a new chef, but it’ll probably be before the end of the month.”Doha paused for a moment before quickening his pace to catch up with the secretary, who was just opening the door. He called out breathlessly to the secretary’s rigid back.“Does Mr. Locke know?”The secretary kept walking and answered indifferently.“Of course. Jean submitted his resignation to the CEO today, and the CEO accepted it.”Doha listened to the fading footsteps as the secretary walked away, holding the door open. The smell of food and wisps of steam drifted from the kitchen down the hallway on the first floor.***When Doha burst into the kitchen, Jean was just opening the oven, wearing thick oven mitts. Hearing the door, Jean turned and smiled at Doha.“Just a minute! Let me put this in!”Three heavy oven trays clattered into the oven one after another. The heat radiating from the oven was intense enough for Doha to feel it. The warm kitchen was filled with white steam, and the windows were fogged, making it impossible to see outside.Finally, Jean shut the oven door and took off his mitts. His face was flushed from the oven’s heat, but he wore his usual bright, energetic expression.“Have a seat! How’s practice going?”“Good.”Doha sat on the counter stool Jean pulled out for him. Now that he was here, the kitchen seemed just like it always did, making him question whether he had dreamt the whole thing.“Do you need something to drink? Or a snack?”Jean, wiping away his sweat, checked the time and added,“Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes.”“No, I’m not hungry…”Hesitating, Doha finally asked,“I heard you’re quitting.”“Oh, yeah.”To Doha’s surprise, Jean readily confirmed it.“I wanted to tell you directly, but who told you already? Scott?”“…Yeah.”“That gossip! He’s been making such a fuss about how hard it is to find a new chef. At least when I leave, I won’t have to miss him one bit!”He looked completely relieved. Wiping his hands on a cloth, he turned toward him, his face lit up with excitement as he added, “Isn’t this great, Eden? We’re going to live in the same city now!”Doha opened his mouth, then closed it again. Jean kept talking as he opened the fridge.“I’ll start preparing to open the restaurant as soon as I get back. You can come visit, and I’ll attend your concerts… We can meet up for some good food whenever we feel like it. There are so many restaurants I love in London. I just hope they’re still around when I get back.”Jean began pulling out fresh green asparagus, red tomatoes, purple onions, and avocados, laying them on the counter. Holding up the bundle of asparagus, Jean waved it in front of Doha’s face.“Look at this. It’s in great shape, isn’t it? It just came in. You have no idea how much I’ve had to struggle with wilting ingredients during the lockdown. And, on top of that, we hardly got deliveries because of security reasons. One of the downsides of this mansion.”Jean spoke as if he were already back in London, as though this place was a thing of the past. Watching him rinse the ingredients at the sink, Doha found himself asking, “Were there… any good things?”“Hm? Of course, there were.” Jean raised his voice above the sound of the water.“For one, it was great to be able to grow ingredients right here in the garden and greenhouse and use them in my cooking. Being able to do open-fire cooking outside was also a nice perk.”“……”“Mr. Locke is a generous employer. He lets me experiment with dishes, and his taste is incredibly refined, making him the perfect person to get feedback from. Being here really helped me solidify what kind of cuisine I want to focus on in the future. It’s been a rewarding year.”The water stopped. Tiny beads of moisture clung to the vegetables on the cutting board. Jean continued talking, his hands skillfully slicing an avocado and chopping the tomatoes at an impressive speed.“I’ve developed plenty of new dishes, so it’s time to go back and open my restaurant. You’ll come visit, won’t you?”“…Of course.”“Come by whenever you’re craving something, even if it’s not on the menu. I owe you a lot, Eden. I’ll have to repay you bit by bit.”“To me? What did I do…?”Jean glanced up at Doha with a bright smile as he chopped.“You made me realize I want to go back to London.”Hearing those words, Doha felt a sudden tightness in his throat. Jean’s wet hands, the smooth motion of his knife slicing through the tomato, the droplets sparkling in midair—they all blurred slightly in his vision, as if in a slow-motion film.“Want one?” Jean offered a slice of tomato. Doha silently accepted and put it in his mouth. His fingertips were cool and damp, and the tart juice burst across his tongue. Jean ate a piece himself, chewing as he continued.“When I first came to this mansion, I was eager to experiment, but at some point, I started getting lazy. It’s strange. My desire to go back faded more and more, and even when I heard about my competitors, it all seemed so distant. Then, when you arrived, Eden, it woke me up. Having someone around from London made me think of it more often.”“……”“Thanks to that, I’ve spent the past few months working on a lot of new dishes and coming up with fresh ideas. And after hearing you play the piano here… I knew it was time for me to leave.”The tomato in Doha’s mouth warmed to his body temperature, and the juice stung lightly as it flowed under his tongue. He chewed the flesh slowly, belatedly.The rhythmic sound of Jean chopping red onions filled the kitchen. As Jean’s knife moved so fast it was almost invisible, he suddenly looked up, as if remembering something, and added, “Mr. Locke wasn’t even surprised, you know.”“……”“Do you know why? He said he noticed my cooking had become more experimental since you arrived. I mean, wow… The Locke family’s palate really is something else. I could tell when he used to dine at my restaurant—he’s one of those rare customers who truly grasps the subtle details of what the chef is trying to convey.”Jean poured the chopped ingredients into a large salad bowl. Doha, his tongue still feeling numb, forced himself to speak.“If Mr. Locke is here, then… do you really need to return to London?”“Hm?”Jean’s hand, which had been scraping the cutting board with the knife, stopped. Ignoring the pause, Doha continued.“Isn’t one customer who truly understands your food enough?”Jean stared at him for a moment, then chuckled and set down the knife. The sharp scent of the onions drifted across the counter to Doha.“Eden.”Jean leaned on the counter, his gaze steady and serious as he spoke.“Fine dining is art, sure, but it’s food first and foremost. And food only has meaning when people eat it.”“……”“I’m not saying quantity matters more than quality, but it’d be great to have a variety of people come to the restaurant. Even if they don’t all love the food, just having them eat it means something, right? It’s a way to connect with people, even if we never meet them face to face—it’s meaningful.”Jean had never looked so serious before. As Doha stared at him in a daze, the oven timer rang loudly. Jean stood up and walked toward the oven, adding one final thought.“And really, how could any sane person live here, isolated forever? Even the most stable person would go crazy living alone for so long. Just look at Mark. Do you think he’s always been that way?”“……”“Mr. Locke should be careful, too. He seems fine now, but who knows how long that’ll last? Give it five or ten years, and he’ll end up just like Mark.”The oven door creaked open, and a delicious, fragrant aroma wafted out. Jean hummed cheerfully as he pulled out the tray, slipping on his oven mitts.Doha sat frozen in his seat, unable to move. It was as though the sound of shattering glass echoed in his ears. As the kitchen faded, his mind flashed back to a cold Christmas night. He remembered the disheveled man rolling on the floor of the foyer, surrounded by darkness, cold, and shards of glass. His eyes had gleamed as though seeing something far away, and he muttered endlessly to himself. It was a glimpse of a man standing on the edge of loneliness.‘…Tristan.’The name escaped Doha’s lips in a barely audible whisper.A long, tear-like droplet slowly trickled down the fogged-up kitchen window. Beyond it, the night was pitch-black and thick.