AS HE WALKED, Carl found himself in a brief state of reverie, where he ended up wondering why he was doing all this.
Why didn't he just ignore it, like he had done so many times throughout his years in the Mafia?
He himself had already killed so many...
What was different about that boy that caught your attention so much?
Well, there was no turning back now, returning the clothes to the killers and saying, "finish your work and good night" would not bring things back to their original course.
He walked over to the coffee machine, which was near the cafeteria. He looked carefully to see if anyone would see him, but the place was empty at the moment, most people were in the emergency room or in beds, helping with the work.
Carl walked over to the trash can next to the machine and threw his clothes in. He pulled two or three cigarettes from his pack and searched for his lighter in a pocket.
Why do I never keep this together?
When he found it, he lit the cigarettes and threw them in the middle, where there were some papers. He returned to the room where the young man was resting.