Doctor

Night. New York City. In a two-story private house, a man sits in the kitchen. He's German, about 45 years old, with neatly styled black hair with a touch of gray. He's reading a newspaper while sipping strong coffee, his blue-gray eyes behind his round glasses darting curiously over the lines of some tabloid newspaper. Outside, the weather wasn't bright; the soft patter of raindrops was beating against the glass, and suddenly... The doorbell rang, followed by the distant, soft cry of a child. Rising from his chair, Ludwig walked cautiously to the door, wondering: who's there? Opening the door, his eyes widened in a mixture of shock and bewilderment at the sight of a basket containing a bundle of string—the source of the crying.