Under the dim yellow streetlights, the woman clutched an insulated food container to her chest and hurried forward, her head bowed against the howling cold wind.
It had been getting colder and colder lately.
Lina breathed out a cloud of white mist, reflecting on the weather.
The container in her arms held dinner for her father, Charles. Ever since they had reunited, she had used the ingredients left in the kitchen after work to prepare his dinner.
The temperature had plummeted over the past few days. Lina had to walk faster, or the food would go cold.
Her father was getting old and had a weak stomach. He could not eat cold food.
Lina was tall and strongly built, and she walked quickly.
The streets around the Funeral Association were deserted, with hardly anyone in sight.
Even many of the streetlights were broken.
As she passed an alley entrance, a figure in ragged clothes rushed out.
"Give me money! Or food will do!" His voice was terribly hoarse.
He was a scrawny homeless man, his foul body odor mixed with a pungent smell.
When he realized the difference in size between himself and Lina, he immediately backed away a few steps, shrinking timidly into the shadows of the alley as he mumbled:
"S-sorry, I was out of my mind with hunger. D-don't hit me."
But Lina found his voice familiar and looked at the homeless man's face in confusion.
At that moment, he also stole a glance up at her and said in disbelief:
"Lina!"
Lina's expression filled with terror, and her shoulders gave a sudden shudder.
The homeless man stepped out of the alley again. His natural complexion was fairer than Lina's, but that only made the grime on his skin more conspicuous.
He wore shabby clothes in a