Lily was a happy girl. Her life seemed being perfect for her. Her father was a mythologist and her mother had a little chocolate factory. She didn’t mind the chocolate, but she loved mythology and literature. Her father read her all the stories he knew about mythology and Lily was a avid reader of classics. All was perfect. Until that day.
Lily’s father was walking the road and a car that was passing didn’t look very closely. He died.
Lily and her mother were heartbroken when they knew. They had a funeral in the city’s Chinatown. Everyone was sad. Lily started to bury herself in books more often, probably because her father’s death. She didn’t care about the things in the world until she discovered a really serious thing.