He walks around the apartment like a pendulum. Back and forth, back and forth. He thinks about something, but does not talk. I try to talk to him, but after a while I leave this failed idea. He does not want. Or it can't. But he looks grim. The clouds before the rain are not as scary as Edgar Ginz in this state.

Something happened. It happened while he was driving to the office. It only remained to wait for him to move away and either tell or remain silent, keeping his secrets.

In the depths of my soul, I was afraid that everything was for a reason: and two...