CHAPTER EIGHT:
LUNA'S BODYGUARD
[SAVANNA HAUTE’S POINT OF VIEW]
I COULDN’T LOOK at Hendrix while we eat in peace, well—I guess we are eating in peace; for I am sure that my mind isn't near any kind of peace. He still has tons of folders stashed in his table as people come and talk to him about something that I couldn't quite hear or understand. Not that I was trying to learn what they were talking about or about what.
I wouldn't want to meddle, anyway.
I am sure that I am not knowledgeable enough for that.
Other men would even hand him a couple of folders after he had just finishing some. It was like the man was so used with his job that he didn’t spare a blink whenever they would throw job into his lap like it was the most normal thing to do. Hendrix kept on put
