They reached the next house on the list. It had a sturdier structure, weathered but still well-maintained despite the fire a few days ago. A low wooden fence surrounded it, and a tangle of herbs grew in the garden, the only sign of life in an otherwise grim path.
Olivia stepped forward again, raising her hand to knock.
This time, the door creaked open before she could. A hunched old man stood in the doorway, leaning heavily on a cane. His eyes were cloudy but sharp, and the moment he saw them, especially Olivia, his brows furrowed.
"I know why you are here," he said, voice raspy but steady. "You are looking for answers about that night."
Looking at their surprised faces, he added. "My younger son was there when you went to the chief house. He works there. When he heard his brother's name. He came to inform me about that. Come."
