Chapter Thirty- Eight: A Suspicion

We walked down seeing more people with the same eerie look. We got to what could be the middle of the town because there were more people and a small mart where we assumed the people got all their stuff. I walked alongside him with my hands clutched in his. His hands were firm in his grip, I felt the softness in his palm. Like his hand moisturizer would cost a fortune. In the course of taking the trip with him, I got to know him more. “Hey, could you point to where this man lives?” Evans showed a group of the people a photo of his father. And they pointed to a direction which we walked towards, getting to a small cottage. “This should be it,” I whispered to him. A man sat just by the wooden porch of the cottage smoking on his pipe. “Father,” Evans called out as soon as he saw him. “Evans,” He sprung up his seat walking towards us, his voice soaked in disbelief. “Is that really you?” “Yes, It's my father.” “What are you doing here?” He sat on a rocking chair on the po