He was sitting in his armchair with her across from him. He knew her since she was a little girl, they were friends. He always remembered her as happy and energetic, a completely opposite image of what he saw now. Now he could only see a girl hesitantly looking at the floor as if she was afraid of being beaten for a misunderstood look.

"You're not going to talk to me, are you?" Paul asked in his deep, yet gentle voice.