Is everything all right? A stupid question, indeed. Ben was leaning with one hand against the wall of the house, his head bent slightly forward, rapidly breathing. Eyes fixed to the tip of his shoes, really busy contemplating who knows what. Obviously, nothing was right, given that his colleague, his friend, had just been found dead in a barrel of water. Is it okay ... Benjamin? He asked again, trying to instill in his name all the gentleness he could. The sergeant nodded a couple of times. John was afraid that that was the end of the conversation. He would have liked to offer Ben all its support, his understanding, his love. He would have liked to tell him Hey, Ben, I am here, I'm here for you, but still he perceived a sort of barrier between the two of them. He was afraid of being refused, judged and labeled. That was the ultimate truth. Well, I'm around the corner, just in case, he said, turning his back to him. But ... For it's such a lovely day, to have to feel this way, he added. To hell, he would have run the risk and offered his help. Sir? He was just a couple of steps away when Ben's warm voice reached him. Would you please stay awhile to share my grief?