THIRD PERSON'S POV
The bus rumbled softly beneath them, the late afternoon sun casting slanted golden rays through the windows. Outside, the landscape flew past in a blur—trees, towns, and stretches of empty road—but Vincent didn’t notice any of it.
His jaw was tight. His fists clenched so hard his knuckles were pale. In his mind, he could only imagine what his father and Leylla were doing back in Mombasa city. He envisioned them embracing in a tight hug, cuddling, and kissing in the room. And worst of all, making love…a thought he could not bear.
He was sitting by the window, staring ahead with eyes full of fire. Marylyn was next to him, arms folded and legs crossed, her lips twisted into a smirk of matching disgust. She was no less bothered than Vincent. For all she knew, Leylla and h
