The Truth

Six years ago, on one fateful night, Percival had an accident and fell into the water. He had a fatal flaw - a deep fear of water and an inability to swim, bluntly speaking, he was like a duck on land.

That night, he thought he was going to die in the water until a blurry figure plunged into the water and forcefully pulled him up.

In December, with a thin layer of ice over the lake, his body was freezing cold, feeling as if it was being scraped by knives, and his blood seemed to contain ice shards.

Percival’s thoughts returned to that night six years ago. His expression was incredibly complex as he sat in a room lit only by an orange-hued lamp, casting light into every corner.

Eulalia, in his arms, was unknowingly shedding tears, grateful that her face, turned away from Percival, hid her tear-blurred visage.

“When exactly was this, six years ago?”

“December 25th, around midnight, in the northern suburbs...” As Percival recounted, the once blurry memories in his mind started to become