It was half past ten at night, but Augustine hadn't returned home yet. Anne could hold her patience barely. Until now, she hadn't called him as she didn't want to disturb him at work. But as the night grew, her restlessness intensified.
He couldn't be at the office. As the thought surfaced in her mind, she grew worried.
"Did something happen to him?" she mused.
Unable to hold back anymore, she dialed his number. The ring went on, but no one picked up the phone.
Anne's worry turned into fear. "Where is he? Why is he not answering my call?"
She was about to dial his number yet again when the doorbell chimed loudly. She jumped, startled, the phone almost slipping out of her grasp.
With her heart pounding, Anne rushed to open the door. The scene outside stunned her. Augustine stood there leaning on Gustave. The strong smell of alcohol assaulted her nostrils.
