The night was still. The tension lingered. The bedroom cold, empty, it offered no comfort. Jim sat on the edge of the bed, leaning his back against the frame. The sickening aftermath of the fight reverberated. The raised voices, the harsh words, recriminations echoing in the silence.
But it wasn't over yet
He took out his phone form his pocket. As he looked at the screen, the clock read 11:15pm. It was late, but the need to see his father's lawyer pressed down on him he began to type a text message.
He felt a sharp pain one one side of his cheek, a metallic taste in his mouth. He pressed on the spot wincing at the sharp sensation.
That son of a b***h struck him hard.
6:45 am.
The lawyer arrived promptly, his briefcase in hand, his face a mask of stoic professionalism. He entered
