About an hour later Peter Aslan was standing outside the front door of the deceased man’s house, preparing himself to inform Faning’s wife about his tragic accident and then to have to ask her the questions he deemed important.

Taking in a deep breath, he knocked on the door and waited. The lady answered. She tried to avoid eye-contact at first. A shy person probably.

“Good morning mrs Faning. I’m here because of your husband, George. Unfortunately…”

As soon as she heard what happened, her eyes opened wide, she covered her mouth and fell to her knees crying. Screaming even. He though that he should let her express her grief in her own way, so he didn’t intervene.

Peter looked around the house, partially to try to shake this image off and partially for the sake of the case. The TV was on but the only sitting spot in the living room, the couch that is, was perfectly made. His gaze reached the bedroom. The bed was completely naked, the closet doors were open and a hanger was empty. He then looked at the bathroom. The lady definitely had taken a shower earlier. It was still steamy in there. Way too steamy actually. He looked at the lady again, she was still weeping on the floor.

He decided he let her express her feelings for long enough and that it was time to intervene and help her stand up. He noticed she was wearing her shirt backwards.

They spoke for about half an hour, then it was time for Peter to go. As he was driving, everything seemed off. He was brainstorming again, but nothing felt like it made sense.