CARL LEFT THE ROOM, stopped in the hallway and glimpsed the late night through the windows. He felt his pockets and clutched the pack of cigarettes that were waiting for him longingly.
You would have to leave the building if you wanted to smoke without any problems.
I don't think I can handle another cappuccino...
He remained there thoughtfully, digesting the words he had heard in the room.
Time can change meanings...
When he realized it, he was returning to the room, eager for a seat. Old age weighed on his bones, his muscles, eager for time, no longer offered much resistance.
I needed to rest...
THE HOSPITALS WERE FULL of the wounded from the afternoon attack, but by nightfall, everything seemed to have gone into a complete lull. With the streets empty and the city on high alert, accidents and emergency care were almost non-existent, to the relief of the few doctors who were left, who were finishing their shifts exhausted. But in the middle of that night, while Benedetti was fighting his nicotine withdrawal with new doses of caffeine, a stretcher crossed the hallway, carrying a very injured young blond man on it. The boy had bandages on many parts of his body and his face was very swollen and bruised. Some of the bandages were very wet with red, a sign that his condition was not at all good.
That caught Benedetti's attention, because in the midst of all that nothingness, a young man had suffered a serious accident. It certainly wouldn't be because of the attack that day, because if it had been since then, given his condition, after so much time had passed he would have already died.
The stretcher rolled into the bed next door and, after a few minutes, the nurses left him alone.
Curious without knowing exactly why, the old man walked to the door and observed the suffering boy.
—What have you been up to, boy? — he said rhetorically.
The young man was as bad as Tony, but visibly more injured. It was pitiful, not knowing what had left him in that state. After getting bored of looking at the lifeless man, he returned to his boss's bedside and stayed there, prepared to spend the rest of the night.
A little over an hour had passed and the rude henchman had still not returned, which made him suspect that he had gone home to sleep in comfort, while he was here, doing the difficult work alone. Deep down, he knew that he could not demand that others be like him.
He was thinking about the damned newbie when he saw two men pass through the crack in the half-open door. Nothing unusual, except that they were both wearing very similar black suits. Silently, he stretched out to his door to satisfy his curiosity and saw that the strangers had entered the bed next door, belonging to the young newcomer.
This boy must be someone important... — he thought from the appearance of his visitors.