CHAPTER 11 - THE GUT

Ferran was eating his breakfast when his phone rang inside the bedroom. When he picked it up, Sanchez was calling.

“What’s up?”

“Are you going to work or not?”

“Maybe? I don’t know. My whole body aches and I’m a little bit dizzy, you know?” Ferran answered.

“Well, you don’t have to go to work today. You should take your day off.” Sanchez’s worried voice could be heard on the other line.

“Alright.”

“And I have something to tell you tomorrow.”

“What is it? Can’t you tell me now?”

“I want to tell it in person and it’s confidential. Someone might hear our conversation so I’ll better end this call.”

“Okay.”

Since Ferran had nothing to do in the afternoon, he thought of cleaning the whole house.

Throw away what should be thrown away, fix what should be fixed, clean up what should be cleaned, and when he was arranging some things on a bookshelf, he saw an upside-down photo frame.

When Ferran looks at it. It was a photo captured almost 15 years ago. Hot tears fell on his cheeks while staring