Zayan moved inside, closing the door behind. His fingers softly grazed the books of astronomy in the first bookshelves. The books his father loved the most, they were still present in the same order.
Every single thing in the room was exactly in the same order as his father left it, Zayan made sure to have the room cleaned once a week under his presence.
He halted in the middle of the room, in front of a large portrait of his father. It was like looking at a mirror image of himself, same green eyes and sharp features, the only difference was his black hair that he inherited unfortunately from his mother.
The man in the picture was the epitome of kindness and compassion with the fame and wealth surrounding him. His father was always a person who made sure to sacrifice himself to help oth
