In the afternoon.
Oleg drove his yellow pickup truck to almost everywhere in the city for more than 8 hours, but he still couldn’t find Antonio.
"I should not have hit him."
Oleg couldn’t help blaming himself deeply.
Since seven years ago, when only Antonio himself entered his life, this little kid was the sole power that supported him to survive.
"Antonio, you better be safe."
Oleg was not a Christian, but he was more devout than those ordinary believers and himself of the past.
However, he felt that such piety was more or less hypocritical. When some trouble came, he only remembered going to pray, which was sort of utilitarian.
Finally, the sky turned the same color as the yellow pick-up truck, which was still running in this bustling city.
Oleg's sight was merely focused on the boys who were a little bit taller than the hydrant, so he didn’t notice that a pair of eyes was looking at him at the moment the pickup truck turned.
