For days, I kept following every wanted poster of Daisy that I could see. The more I searched, the more the need to find her increased. Judging by the posters, I was sure she was somewhere around, I just need to find out where. On the fourth day after I saw the first poster, I resumed driving around, following the trail of posters until I arrived at poster number thirty.
The poster was on a mailbox in front of a small, homely looking apartment and a man reading a newspaper was sitting on the porch. His eyes started following me from the moment I parked my car and climbed out of it. As if reading my mind, his eyes traveled to the mailbox then back to me and I could see the curiosity in them. I could tell that the mailbox was his, but I went ahead to rip the poster from it anyway. He jumped
