CHAPTER SXTY-NINE

It is late in the evening and Miguel is back from work. He enters the living room with a face daubed with weariness and appears dead-beat and extremely cut-up. His neck-tie loosely hung around his neck and his laptop bag clenched in his hands seemed to be weightier than it was.

"Sir, welcome, Sir, good evening…" The three maids who were around greeted him with a sense of absolute politeness.

He responds with a nod and a dearth of his usual warm smile to their greetings as if he hadn't the least strength to talk and they looked at one another and then drew their astonished gazes at him in dead silence and shrugged and took to the kitchen.

Miguel went straight to his room, but as he climbed the marble staircase, one couldn't fail to notice that he was struggling to get to the last step and halts briefly to catc