At ten o'clock at night, Vania is sitting relaxed on the terrace of her rented house which is a bluish-white ceramic. The woman wore short blue jeans combined with an oversized white t-shirt and let her long hair flow freely. She looked like a girl who maybe no one would have thought she had a child when she was alone like that.
"Why isn't Max home yet? Is he going to work late again tonight? He comes home late every day and is late for dinner." Vania wondered as she stared at Max's light brown door, still closed.
After sitting on the terrace for a few minutes, Vania finally smiled in relief when someone riding a beat motorbike stopped on Max's rented terrace. She got up and walked towards him.
"Hi, Max. You always work late," said Vania when Max took off his helmet and immediately got off the motorbike.
