It was already quarter eleven when she finishes the laundry and Achilles and his bitch are still not yet home. And the food she prepared for them is already cold and she cried again because it was a waste. Achilles didn’t clear out—and it’s her fault that she didn’t ask when—if breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

Her back is aching and it seems like at any moment, her body wants to collapse. But when Mary said that she was on her way to their house, she was surprised and doesn’t know what to do first. She just then decided to put the dried clothes in the large basket and put them...