On the morning upon which the woman appeared to give her testimony, the prosecutor was much more riled up than usual. The previous day he had been presented with a fellow who had killed his mother. He had strangled her on the floor with his bare hands.
The abuelo was a son of a bitch. He would beat his wife into unconsciousness. His children would scream through the locked bedroom door as he pummeled her with his bare fists. And yet, in his right and sober mind, he was the most serene fellow in the world.