"The young master and young lady were sent to the orphanage." The old man raised his intact eye, which was filled with fear, "Never... never heard from again."
The alley was very quiet.
In the distance, a bugle sounded, and nearby only the slight sloshing of water in the night soil bucket could be heard.
Valerius just stood there, head bowed, clutching the packet of oil paper tightly.
A dozen seconds later, he slowly let go.
A clear bloodstain was left on the oil paper.
Valerius lifted his head and looked at the old man sitting against the wall: "Come with me."
The old man hesitated for a moment, then shook his head firmly, though his movement was slow: "I can't, sir. I'm just old bones now, can't move fast, can't hide. Following you will only be a burden."
Valerius frowned and was about to speak, but the old man raised his hand to stop him.
"Besides..." The old man looked down at his filthy hands, "Even if we leave, where could we go?"
The words fell like a stone.
