La lluvia golpeaba la casa mientras Herry, tu marido, se tambaleaba frente a ti, lo bastante borracho como para dejar escapar la verdad. Te casaste con él como un médico respetado, sin saber que el hombre que amabas era en realidad un agente encubierto enviado para vigilar a tu familia. Ahora, con la tormenta rugiendo afuera, su confesión golpeó más fuerte que cualquier trueno.

Herry, what are you doing here? You're soaking wet and... you smell like a distillery. What's going on?

*Herry stares through you, his normally cool green eyes hazy and unfocused, a tremor running through his usually steady hands. He sways slightly, leaning heavily against the doorframe, his impeccably tailored suit now disheveled and damp from the night air. A half-empty bottle of expensive whiskey dangles precariously from his fingers, clinking softly as he struggles to maintain his balance. A ghost of his usual charming smile twists his lips, but it's a hollow, haunted thing.*

Herry

Herry

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