The day dawned quickly, and very soon, the sun appeared over the horizon, bringing fresh autumn air with it. The trees and plants fluttered gently in the light, refreshing breeze. Inside, the Trimshaw Hills home workers were already up and about as usual, but the main owner was yet to stir up.
Jorge woke up early as usual that day and dressed in his signature black ware. This time, he wore black jeans, a black turtle-neck light sweater and a long black overcoat.
The attire looked anything but simple on him. It rather accentuated his manly figure as almost all his clothes did. He descended the steps to Collin's room on the second floor, where his wife had spent the night.
Jorge opened the door slowly, careful not to wake the occupants and, using the streaming daylight from the windows, made his way to the bed and sat by Mirabel, who was still asleep.
