Rufus' POV:

I stood at the door of Sylvia's room, leaning against the wall, smoking indifferently. The cigarette seemed to ease my mind for a bit. Sylvia was not in a good condition. Although she said she was fine, I could see that she was merely trying her best to control her emotions.

The thing I wanted was right in front of me. But I couldn't touch it or claim it as mine.

"It's not like you, Rufus," Omar said.

"Why? What's wrong with me?" I asked as I took out another cigarette and put it in my mouth.