Marco dialed another number on the telephone on his office desk, anxiously anticipating for it to be picked up but in vain.
"So you mean to say," Hertwig muttered. "She asked for tickets, and you said yes?" He added dumbfoundedly. "And you didn't even ask her why or go with her?"
Mr. Alan stared down at the ground intensely, as if his gaze was going to pierce through the foundation anytime soon. For him, his memory was hazy. There wasn't much he could remember about Nancy's departure whatsoever.
"Mr. Alan?!" Hertwig called him out of frustration. "You know we're in trouble, right?"
"I know, yes." Mr. Alan nodded. "I just-" He sighed, "I just don't know what to say. Never in the past 40 years of work have I ever been held at this spot. I don't remember why or how Miss Nancy left or how I ever agreed to it… I just know I got her tickets to Russia on her demand. I just don't know how she talked me into it." He frustratingly added.
