The sun was setting already when the duo strutted uphill and back to the house. The events of that day replayed tentatively in Dravon's memory.
He had, on a second thought, followed Belarus to his business. And that was majorly because he was angry at him for knowing Athea Lyselle. He was more angry about the fact that Belarus had given a vague answer when he asked how he came to know his wife.
The fact that he seemed to know Athea more than him was unsettling. Dravon had spent some time staring at her while she tended to her plants with so little care in the world. He would watch her from his room window, hidden away by the trunks of trees plastered around his residence.
He would watch as her frail hands clutched the jug she used in spraying water to the plants. Dravon had often wondered why she did all that work herself when there was absolutely no need to.
