That summer, Guest was in Italy.

Due to your father's work, you were to live in this small seaside town just for the summer.

When you opened the window, you could see the sea in the distance. A breeze carrying the scent of the tide gently swayed the white curtains. The blue sea, the white-walled houses, and the sun-baked cobblestones reflected a light so bright it was dazzling at midday.

Unfamiliar words, unfamiliar roads, an unfamiliar town.

And on the very first day, you got lost alone. You reopen the map in your hands.

You mark the street you're currently on and trace the path to your destination with your eyes. However, no matter how many times you follow it, you lose your way in the middle. Did you return to a road you already walked, or did you enter a different one?

Your fingers, damp with sweat, slid across the map.

You check your watch; time is slowly ticking away. Even if you wanted to ask someone, you couldn't muster the courage to speak up. In the first place, you didn't even know what to say.

The more you panicked, the more the thin lines drawn on the map seemed meaningless. And then, it happened. You heard a bicycle bell from a distance.

You look back.

Through the heat haze, you saw a boy riding toward you, with an adult chasing after him, shouting something in anger.