There was a man who had covered himself up well and was carrying a child at the intersection ahead. He was in a black sweater with a mask and a cap, but his child was swaddled in thick clothes without a hat.
How can a parent stand to let their kid's head freeze while their wear thick clothes themselves?
This doesn't seem like his kid at all. Could it be that the kid in his arms is that kid?
With that thought in mind, Arielle fixed her gaze on him.
Her fingers danced across the keyboard rapidly as the arrow moved along with that man.
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