“Anjelo…” Lathe began, but before he could finish Anjelo was already out of the room.
Lathe stood there looking after him, and wondering what to do. He wanted to help Anjelo, but nothing he said seemed to make a difference. He paced for a moment trying to come up with an answer, but he couldn’t seem to think. He needed air, and needed it bad, so without another thought he moved swiftly, grabbed his jacket and slammed out into the cool semi-darkness of an early morning. 9
He walked and walked, welcoming the cool air as it cleared his mind.