Sick

"Because you lied to Mrs. Voudly, now I'm really sick."

Moreau spoke with an uncomfortable urgency after hearing the clatter of someone approaching. She felt cold all the time, and had just decided to take shelter under the thick blanket. It was quite a relief to be able to sleep in Juan's bed, considering there was only one room here with the man always sharing a bed with someone, if Juan's lover was not busy with work.

However, the man had certainly followed Moreau's departure. Now towering over her with his arms folded across his chest. Juan clucked and flopped down on the long sofa.

For a moment the man inhaled and exhaled a little roughly. Playing with his own hair with a skeptical look in his eyes.

"You're not sick because I lied. That's just a coincidence. The truth is that you refused to eat since noon or afternoon when I offered you something to get into your stomach."

Moreau had expected it. She was becoming more and more convinced that Juan was actually gathering