Ambryan logged into the website when he came home.
His mother knew he already left the office. She had bluntly scolded the board of directors about his office hours. She stated all the problems it would cause his health, threatening the company could collapse if he became sick.
More than anyone, Ambryan knew those claims were exaggerated. He compensated over the outburst by stating he'd continue the work at home.
It didn't matter anyway as long as he had the chat open—his mother's real reason.
He shrugged off his black suit jacket. Then, he hung it on the backrest of his chair. Kiri slept soundly on the couch. She favored a pillow which had a pattern of shooting stars.
Her light snores were the only sound in the room.
Exhaling sharply, Ambryan clicked on the first chat notification. A dark cloud circled around his head. The exhaustion from before resurfaced. Why did he even need to reply? The conversation held no value.
It wasn't worth the time.
.
