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Finally we are home. Part two.
"Why did you kill Celeste?"
"I didn't kill her."
"But you had the gun in your hands."
"Yes. But I didn't kill her."
"Monsieur Jean, do you hear me? Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"I'm sorry, but I have to go. I don't have time to be here with you."
"You can't avoid what has happened and continues to happen. If you're playing, that's enough. Don't take up my time."
Jean, feeling the pain in his hands, looked at his palms, which were covered in blood. He remembered nothing, he knew nothing. And with each second, it was hard for him to know who he was. With every second, he was losing himself. And as he lost himself, he became smaller. His shoulders slumped and he simply began to sink into the iron chair, which seemed like ice.
"Jean, you killed Celeste, and also wounded your friend. Also, you forged his signature on all the documents. You stole everything from him. I knew there
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"You are in a good state of mind today, Monsieur. I'm glad to see you like this," said Nicholas, smiling happily. Putting on his jacket, Adelard smiled back. Straightening strands of his long hair once more, he turned to Nicholas. "How many times have I told you not to address me so formally? How long have we known each other. You are just like a brother to me. So there is no need for this word Monsieur. Will it be convenient for you if I refer to you like this? Monsieur Nicholas, please bring me the morning paper. Monsieur Nicholas, please give me that bottle of cologne." "Okay. Stop that. I'm really uncomfortable," answered Nicholas slightly shaking him by the shoulders. "That's much better. The people around me already treat me like a king. They are always so polite. Since childhood, I have not seen a single emotion other than admiration and deceitful politeness."
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