Stan walked beside me, his face grim. I could feel the weight of his silence, but I also knew he was as confused and shaken as I was. We didn’t speak as we made our way back to the car. The world outside seemed too bright, too loud, for the somber mood that gripped us. I slid into the passenger seat, and he started the engine without a word.
“Do you really think we can find him?” Stan asked with a tone of disbelief.
“I hope so. We had many strange faces, on the day of the funeral. I am sure the camera would have taken most of the faces.” I responded.
“And if we don’t find him still?” Stan asked.
My brows scrunched up in confusion.
“I honestly don’t know.” I admitted.
“But we have to start from somewhere…and that’s his appearance.” I added, while Stan nodded and drove onto the familia
