Chapter 3
Elijah
Past
His house was small but warm. It felt welcoming, like home.
It didn’t reek of piss and rotten food. There were no dirty dishes scattered around the kitchen or smelly clothes lying on the couches.
The walls were clean, with no greasy hand marks and mold stuck to them. The man closed the door behind him. “You hungry, boy?”
I nodded.
“The bathroom is down the hall, first door on the left. Take a shower while I make us something to eat. There’s a set of clean clothes for you on the bathroom cabinet.” He placed the cello case in the jacket closet behind the door, and I was oddly curious about the guns he hid inside it.
“Will you teach me?”
He glanced at me in question.
I swallowed. “Will you teach me how to shoot?”
He shrugged out of his gray coat and hung it in
