Chapter 8December 8th
On the eighth of December, heavy clouds rolled in, and Victor glared at the sky from his office. When there were thirteen minutes left of his workday, the first snowflakes kissed the window. They were small at first, but before the clock struck five they were the size of Oreos.
Sighing, he reached for his jacket and lingered in the hallway for a minute or two in hopes of someone coming by and asking if he wanted a ride. Apparently, everyone had left early, or planned on working late, because no one neared the door.
Shivering, he straightened the collar of his jacket and cursed himself for not having brought his knitted cap when he’d left in the morning.
With his shoulders pushed up to his ears and with his gaze locked on the ground, he hurried along the street thr
