The coy smile left Nisha's mouth as she spoke.
"We are in Rivermarrow. Do you know where that is?"
I shook my head, slightly confused because I had no idea how that was supposed to be connected to the bad news.
"Hmm, I see…"
She was about to continue when we heard footsteps again. She went silent quickly, and we both watched as the supposed father of the girl entered the room.
The man was old, but not too old — fairly in his late fifties. He had a rough grey goatee, and his face was carved with wrinkles, even around his eyes, creasing the skin there like old leather. His hair was scarce, leaving a centerpiece of barren scalp, although he'd tied a faded scarf around his forehead to cover most of it.
