On the other side of the line came a woman's gentle voice. "I'm sorry, the number you dialed is powered off..." Hilla's heart sank.
Bruce's phone was turned off. His phone was always on.
Did he not want to talk to her, or was he angry with her?
It was pouring outside without any signs of stopping. It hit the glass of the balcony and window fiercely.
The pattering of rain contrasted with the silence of the room, which made Hilla feel lonely.
Hilla wrapped herself in the quilt and looked at the phone screen in her hand. Margaret's voice echoed in her mind. "Every successful man stays outside at night."
Really?
Hilla felt upset. It was the first time Bruce didn't come back or maybe he would be back soon once he was done with his work.
The servant sent her hot milk and supper and left. Hilla sat there in a daze and gradually felt cold in this big empty room.
Then she got up, walk to the easel on the side. She pulled off the cloth over it and looked at the unfinished painting.
