It was early Saturday morning...
It was early Saturday morning, and Marie paced around her apartment complex holding a steaming mug of milk with sugar, a treat her mother always made for her when she was young. Five steps to the left, five steps to the right, back and forth anxiously biting her freshly manicured nails. She decided she needed to leave her suffocating apartment because she could not stop thinking about her father. Marie’s father, Nicolás, booked a plane ticket immediately to come see her after receiving the news of Mr. Evan’s death. After all, he was paying Mr. Evans to look out for his daughter while he was in Colombia. Marie’s nervousness surrounding her dad’s visit began to overwhelm her. She knew George would listen to her because they spoke often during in the early mornings while Marie walked Atlas. George was standing by the doorway with a smiling face. Marie approached George, “Hey Georgie. How are you today? Do you have a minute?” George replied, “I woke up today and was able to g...