He stood by his window with his sketch book in hand, coming up with his next design, when a taxi pulled into the building, and she came out of it. It was already past five when she got back.
Indeed, he had sent her there as a punishment, since she loved raising her voice, and screaming unnecessarily, he sent her to a place where she could use her talent very well. He sent her there so she could shout her lungs out.
He was sure that by the time she got back, even if she tried to, even a whisper would not come out from her lips. He watched the driver help her move the bag out of the trunk, then left her there to suffer her fate alone.
He saw her trying to pick it up, but she probably just broke her back doing so. And unknown to him, a smile curled up his lips watching her struggle. He enjoyed watching her suffer, but this was something else. He wasn't thinking of the fact that she was struggling right now, just that she was acting funny.
