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89. Delusional

I walked out of the room and went downstairs hoping to see Andrei. I was worried about both men. One was physically hurt while the other was emotionally hurt, along with being imprisoned mentally.

It was obvious he was not going to seek help from anyone, including me. It was what he was used to. He had been living that way all his life.

As I descended the stairs, I saw Mikhail on the way.

“How’s Maxim doing?” He asked me, obviously worried about his friend too. The house was eerily quiet, unlike other times, and it was expected, since everyone’s focus was on Andrei, hoping he would get better.

“He’s not okay, but he won’t admit it. He’s taking a shower now.”

“Okay.” He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. He was just as exhausted as I was, even if none of us were in the place where the shooting happened. Knowing Maxim didn’t tell me everything that happened, I asked Mikhail and he relayed the information to me as we went to the sick room together.

I was in shock. I’ve always hated
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