Alaric strolled home from school, feeling the satisfying routine of his daily life. The sun was beginning its descent, casting a warm, golden glow over the neighborhood. Despite the normalcy of his surroundings, a sense of anticipation lingered with him. The red cross around his neck, concealed beneath his shirt, served as a constant reminder of the secrets he carried—secrets that had to remain hidden to keep his life on track.
As he approached his street, Alaric noticed an elderly man standing at the edge of the sidewalk. The old man's appearance was somewhat antiquated, with a long overcoat and a hat that seemed out of place for the current fashion. His gaze was fixed on the houses across the street, a look of concentration etched on his face. The man held a piece of paper, which he examined periodically, glancing at the houses as if searching for something.
