Aryami Bose's home had been closed up for years, inhabited only by books and paintings, but the spectre of thousands of memories imprisoned between its walls still permeated the house.

“We are willing to believe anything other than the truth.”

“I decided that my existence would be one of books and silence.”

“Véletlen az, amikor egy-egy ponton felfeslik a sors szövete.”

“Go to hell, I whispered. The night darker than ever, leaned in against the wind…”