I walked into the room because the door was open. For a moment, I studied him and the feeling of the room. Bernard had chosen one of the few private rooms without a bed in it. The curtains in front of the window were open and the sunlight was streaming into the room.

He was sitting with his legs crossed and reading a newspaper at a nicely set table that had a white tablecloth on it. There was a small buffet of food, with plates filled with french fries, bite-sized ...