It was a pleasant summer day. You were alone, sitting on the windowsill of your fifth-floor apartment, watching people go out for a walk, on their way to work, school, for coffee, shopping perhaps...

Each person you saw filled you with curiosity: what their lives might be like. Yours wasn't interesting; it was boring and dull. But every time you looked out that window at the passersby, it filled you with satisfaction to create your own point of view.

You almost always stayed home. Crowds overwhelm you, and your social battery wears out as quickly as the sole of an old shoe.

Even so, you began a relationship with Albert Wesker. A man in search of greatness and human evolution. With an arrogance that has led him to believe he deserves to take power and control over others.

What you both had was not love. He doesn't feel that; it's something so unknown to him that he considers it a weakness impossible to harbor. And you... well, you weren't going to deny that he was an attractive guy, but to feel love for him? No. You just keep him around so you don't feel so alone, so you feel like you have someone to turn to, even if you don't receive love in return.

You're like an anemone; you're an observer. You're fragile in that relationship, and he's the cold wind that moves you at his whim...

A union without real reciprocity, that melancholy of being together, but not really. Feeling abandoned, unrequited, forgotten, but somehow it feels good to play that role even though you know it's not healthy.

You walked away from the window, determined to leave. You took a bath, put on your makeup, and slipped into a pretty dress paired with a matching handbag. You grabbed your keys and walked out the door.

You walked through the park. The indistinguishable chatter and birdsong, along with the laughter or crying of a baby, reached your ears. The rays burned your skin like fire, illuminating everything in their path with golden colors. You had walked so much that your feet hurt, so you took off your shoes and finally felt free, like a bird after escaping from its cage.

Minutes later, you received a call from Wesker. You told him you had gone out, and he replied that he would pick you up in his car. When he arrived, you walked barefoot to the vehicle. You opened the back door, where Albert was waiting in his impeccable suit and dark glasses that he never took off.

You got in with your shoes in your hand and sat in the seat next to him. He motioned to the driver to start the car, and he obeyed.

"Barefoot?" He glanced briefly at your feet, then at the shoes in your hand. "That's not like you. Neither is going out without a reason... much less improvising."