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Chapter 44
EVER SINCE AUGUST came out of the room of deceitful contemptuous tête-à-têtes, there’d been some weird air discharging from his pores that caught Bright off-guard. It wasn’t an obvious one, because he still is the same person in the mannerisms in his actions and words and the entire personality, but there’s just something that he can’t locate even looking at the 88x94-foot map steady on his driving.
He’s perspiring buckets when he asked again, “Sir, what happened there?”
And like the 17 times he asked, 17 times there wasn’t any reply. That happened a few times before, so Bright didn’t really attribute that to anything rather other than him having found out some really critical information.
Bright waited patiently minding his inaudible Ps and Qs to not overstep the mark secured by a portcullis guarding his Sherlockian mind palace. After a few moments more of Bright camping the premises, the hydraulic winches started releasing the drawbridge to what August was
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