Chapter 65

The mood in the dark lit room was so tense, it could be cut with a knife. The silence in the room could also be heard from miles away, no one dared to speak or make a sound. Even the injured whose grunts- from the excruciating pain he felt would've been justifiable- had to stuff cloth in his mouth to prevent the sounds from escaping his throat else he'd move from being injured to being dead.

What did they say about a living dog being better than a dead lion, now?

Jose was prancing his basement restlessly, with a glass of drink in his left hand and his right hand tucked in the pocket of his navy blue pants.

Moving from one end of a room to the other with a glass of drink that he never drinks from in one hand, his other hand tucked in his pant's pockets and being pulled out to ruffle his hair at intervals was Jose's way of expressing frustration. He'd remember his paternal grandma whom he spent his early teens had taken it upon himself to teach to rather, sit in a sp