Arnold Simmons was nothing more than a burden too.
It seemed like many people resisted him, feared him, looked at him with either disgust or fear.
Just like in a bustling street corner, when spotting a dying wolf cub, there would always be someone worried about getting bitten.
But it didn't matter, she was not afraid of him.
The rain outside had stopped, but the sky was still gloomy.
It was almost noon.
Arnold Simmons walked Hannah to the entrance of the residential area, passing by the guard room where they once again met the grandfather on duty that night.
The grandfather, wearing presbyopic glasses, despite his age, had a good memory. He himself lived in this residential area, and worked as a security guard to keep himself busy.
He knew and remembered most of the residents who came in and out of the community.
The grandfather turned down the radio volume a little and chuckled, "Hannah is back."
