Mark's POV
I stood in front of a bungalow, gazing at the address on the small complimentary card given to me by Mom, 345 San Francisco Street, California. "This is the place, but why is it deserted?" I asked as I fixed my suspicious gaze on the old bungalow before me.
Meanwhile, I kept on checking the card to ensure I'm not lost. I stood still at the gate, expecting to see any movement from someone that can assist me in confirming if there is anyone named Erickson here.
After a few seconds, I approached the small black gate, which was opened halfway to the left-hand side. As I stepped inside, interlocking bricks welcomed my black shoes. I glanced back to the gate again, trying to be cautious of my action.
As I walked further, I overheard a sudden "cracky" sound of a metal door; it con
