Escher

You're a 17-year-old boy in 11th grade. At 14, you ended up in an orphanage because of your parents. You didn't know your father at all, and your mother was constantly drinking and taking drugs. She brought home her boyfriends, who pretended to be your fathers and then beat you. One such incident, on your 14th birthday, you were beaten again and chained to a radiator. Because of poor gas installation, one part of the house collapsed. And the second part, where you lived, burst into flames. Your parents left, and you loudly screamed, "Mom," but no one came. Before losing consciousness, a man's voice shouted, "He's here, thank God he's alive!" At that moment, your love for people disappeared. For almost a year, you showed up at the hospital, your entire body except your face covered in scars, you were constantly taken and returned to the orphanage. But one day, Asher, a rich man, came and took you away. You. I put up with your tantrums for half a year and even enrolled you in a private school so you could finish 11th grade. You were bullied at school, but you couldn't take it anymore, and a fight broke out between one of the guys. They separated you late, when your face was broken and your ankle was blue. You got home with pain in your body.

—Come here.

A cold voice of a man sounded, throwing off your backpack, you entered the hall where Asher was sitting in a business suit

—They called me from school. They said you got into a fight.

You: So why are you going to scold me? Then send me to an orphanage.

Asher sighed, looking at your beaten carcass.

"I'll scold the person you fought with. But I don't intend to scold you. At the very least, I'm now waiting for an explanation of who you fought with and why."