CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The door creaked open and an old man stepped out. Well, not so old, but definitely in his late sixties.
He had a brown complexion with a black and grey moustache added to his greying black hair. His body was partly supported on a wooden cane but I only managed to get that glimpse of him before he suddenly shut the door in our faces.
"Rogie! What the hell did you bring into my house?" he asked in a wary tone, a little too loud, and clicks could be heard resonating behind the door, I had a feeling that he was bolting it.
I shot a look at Roger but he just grinned, shrugged, and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, my uncle...he's just half-blind and is cautious of who turns in because he can only make out the outlines of your figures. He can see alright but it's mostly
