Chapter 4

He was watching the kids playing in the yard across the street. The little boy, who wasn't so little anymore as he neared the age of eight, was on the swings, while his older sister, by two years, was playing in the high grass with her small dolls.

Stefan Mark sighed deeply while seeing this. It wasn't often he got to see them anymore as they were playing more inside—probably watching TV or playing computer games like more and more children did these days. Or just tapping away on some mindless game on the phone. It saddened Stefan because he believed that children ought to spend time outside every day, as much as possible. Not that he had been a particularly outdoorsy kid himself, but still. He would like to see them more.

"Stop growing," he said and placed a hand on the window. "I can't keep up."

Stefan walked out on the porch with his coffee cup in his hand and sat down on the old porch swing. From here, he could hear the kids laughing, which was the most soothing sound in the world. How he wished he could go over there and hug them again like he used to. How he wished their little faces would light up and they'd run to him with open arms, yelling Uncle Stefan, and the little one would simply plop into his lap like the most natural thing in the world.

Like he belonged there.

But that was long ago now. Now, the kids only looked at him with big eyes like he was a stranger, and their aunt would pull them inside the house if he came near it. He was no longer welcome in their lives.

And that made him so sad.

Because he loved those little munchkins.

Stefan sipped his coffee while watching them play, enjoying the sound of their voices being carried across the cul-de-sac by the eastern wind. He couldn't hear exactly what they were saying, but they sounded happy, and that was enough for him. He stayed in this house for their sake, to be able to keep an eye on them and follow them as they grew. They were the only reason he hadn't left when the incident happened. This place brought him nothing but sorrow and deep sadness otherwise.

The girl, little Izzy, was playing quietly until her brother, Ben, jumped off the swing, ran to her, and took one of her dolls out of her hand. He took off laughing while Izzy screamed angrily. Then she got up and ran after him. Stefan watched them as she tried to catch him, and Ben squealed with joy, holding the doll up high in the air over his head so his sister couldn't reach it, even when jumping. In turn, Izzy pushed him hard, and he fell back, hitting his head on the asphalt driveway. Now, Ben was crying while Izzy triumphantly wriggled the doll out of his grip and was about to walk away when their aunt came running out to them. She helped Ben get up, then grabbed Izzy by the hand and pulled her forcefully toward the door while scolding her for pushing her brother. Stefan rose to his feet, feeling awful for poor Izzy, and as he did, their aunt turned her head and spotted him. Her eyes glared directly at him, and he felt it like icicles on his skin. Shivering, he turned around and went inside the house while Izzy cried on the other side of the cul-de-sac, being dragged toward the door.

End of excerpt…