A fragment of his former self

Andrew didn't show up to work the next day. Or the day after that. 

By the fourth day, it was clear to almost everyone in the building that something was very, dangerously wrong. 

Maxwell wasn't well. 

He wasn't himself in the slightest. He hadn't been able to get a good night's sleep since Andrew hadn't come home that first night, and now on the fourth day, the lack of sleep was becoming apparent. 

Maxwell was disoriented, barely able to pay attention to the work he had placed before him, let alone meetings he was supposed to attend. He spent most of his time listlessly staring into space, his eyes bloodshot and his expression one of great pain. Mr. Newman was worried for his health, worried about the company, and worried about the relationship between the two.