I tried to catch up to him, but the sidewalks were crowded. People parted for him, but not me.
After two blocks, I realized something: the old man hadn’t paused once to ask people for spare change. He hadn’t stopped to eat the bun or drink the tea either. He was moving with purpose.
My gut instinct told me to stop trying to catch up to him, to follow him instead.
So that’s what I did.
I followed him all the way to the edge of the city.
He was moving with purpose.
He stopped outside an old, abandoned house.
It was surrounded by an unkempt garden choked with weeds that merged seamlessly with the woods at the back.
It looked like nobody had cared about it in a long time.
The old man knocked quietly on the door.
I moved closer. The old man turned at one point, but I ducked behind a tree before he spotted me.
I heard the door open.
He stopped outside an old, abandoned house.
“You said I should tell you if someone ever asked about the jacket…” the old man said.
I peeked around the tree. When I saw who was standing in the doorway of that decrepit old house, I thought I might faint.
“Daniel!” I stumbled toward the door.
My son looked up. His eyes widened with fear.
A shadow moved behind Daniel. He glanced over his shoulder, back at me, then did the last thing I ever would’ve expected.
He ran.
A shadow moved behind Daniel.
“Daniel, wait!” I picked up speed, sprinting past the old man and into the house.
A door slammed. I raced down the hall and skidded into the kitchen. I tugged the back door open just in time to watch Daniel and a girl race into the woods.
I raced after them, screaming his name, but they were too fast.
I lost them.
***
I drove straight to the nearest police station and told the desk officer everything.
“Why would he run from you?” he asked.
I lost them.
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