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Mordecai sat downstairs at the dining table by himself, eating breakfast, and getting caught up on the news before he left for work to meet with some scholars and discuss the future of his company. He had to do something about McSneed and he hoped the scholars would know some kind of solution. 

His wife came down to inform the maid to bring her coffee and breakfast to her room. She was still in her bathrobe and pink fluffy slippers and barely acknowledged her husband before returning upstairs.

"Woman." Mordecai scowled and flipped through the Nimrod Times. There was nothing good these days. There was lots of talk about crimes in Nimrod, and about the sickness and poverty in Mourning—the poor area where the sun never seemed to reach, and people mourned dead loved ones all day long.

At the thought of 'loved ones' he glanced up at the ceiling about where Georgina would be in her separate room. For the last four years or so, it had been this way. Mordecai didn't see himself at fault for this and often wondered why his wife was punishing him. He could not even remember the last time they shared a kiss. 

Yet, he was very much at fault in Georgina's eyes. His not caring about peace in the house and not taking Henry to asylum meant he did not care about her.

Scanning lazily over the Times, a title caught his eye. "Rick Says Boss Underpaid Suing."

"Rick Memorson, a twenty-eight-year-old successful businessman has taken matters to court Thursday evening. Brian Height Judge have approved of the case. Hearing Friday at noon. Mr. Memorson called 'much needed reinforcements' against his long-time boss, Ted-Manson McSneed. Says had been underpaid for three months now and wants to 'get things right and get the earned amount of money'. Miss Memorson has not been seen and will not answer the door..."

It was good news to Mordecai. With this, McSneed would certainly fall, he believed, without him having to do anything. All he needed to do was sit back and watch the fight. He was also glad that Rick stopped bothering him about getting money to go to court. Last week, Rick came to his office to try to sell information for court money.

"I know you hate McSneed. Wouldn't the fall of Ted-Manson tickle your bones? I know all kinds of inside tricks that you can use against McSneed. Yeah, I would reveal stuff about my own uncle. I know all the secrets. All I need is a couple hundred pholars in exchange to take him to court. What do you say, Mr. Quad? And if you like, I can be your inside man. I can find out more secrets for you if you pay me more. What do you say?"

Mordecai, at the time, did not want to be bothered with too many complications. He wanted to be left alone, so, he turned the man away. Still it seemed that Rick was somehow able to get money to go to court. There was no guessing how he did it, yet, Mordecai suspected illegal things were at play. Desperate men did desperate things.

Under a cloudy sky, Henry was walking on an empty stomach, obeying his father's eating rules: 'if you aren't successful, that means you're not successful enough to eat at the same table as those who are'. 

But the real rule was not as such. Henry's understanding was a little skewed. He could eat at the same table, but he would have to pay back the cost once he became successful.

Mouthwatering scents of freshly baked bread, oats with sugar and milk, fluffy buttery eggs with cheese and peppers, and his favorite, sweet delicacies that only those wealthy enough could eat wafted down the road. Every café or restaurant open enticed his near-empty wallet. 

He peered into Experience—a fancy café that had a large assortment of sweet delights for afternoon tea. Henry had not had afternoon tea even once in his lifetime so far and there was very little chance he would ever get to.

The Façade of Quad in Nimrod ✓ | Satire, family drama, dark societyOnde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora