Diego was sitting at his desk while journaling. Occasionally, he’d take a moment and think about what he was writing, or wipe his eyes as if he was crying, but there were no visible tears. His father, Castillo, had just tucked him in and locked the door from the outside a moment ago, which gave Diego some much needed privacy. He was wearing a silly t-shirt and black shorts. He tried to stay quiet as to not alert Castillo he was still awake.