The rain poured outside the windows of Chairman Nathaniel's study, a relentless downpour that mirrored the tense atmosphere in the room.
His study, a room that he often uses more than his bedroom, is a commodious space that gives off a somber ambiance, adorned with dark mahogany and lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, seemed even more imposing from the dark clouds and heavy rain pouring outside.
The space was divided in half – on the left, a large desk enough for a group of six to hold a meeting was in the center, and a set of four large three-seater sofas and two round center tables on the other half, closer to the double door.
Chairman Nataniel Horace sat on the grand desk; his stern gaze fixed on the glass windows, as though he was lost in the wonder of how graceful those tiny drops were, trickling on the glass like a morning dew sliding on a leaf undisturbed.
