IT was evening, the setting sun casting its golden hue over the city as everyone had begun retiring to their various shelters. Oswald walked into his mansion, his usual rigid expression betraying no emotion. Nathan trailed behind him, carrying his boss’ stuffs and the lunch pack, but instead of heading to his (Oswald's) bedroom, he headed directly to the kitchen without a word.
Oswald remained in the foyer, removing his coat slowly and glancing around. The house was quiet, as it usually was these days, a hollow silence that reminded him of how empty it had always felt, despite its grandeur.
Nathan entered the kitchen, Orlanda was in there, busy scrubbing the countertops. She had been working for hours, still filled with the worry, anxiety and curiosity knowing what her parents did came
