Tavon was wandering down Main Street, carrying a bag filled with gifts he''d picked up from the fancy shops. He was headed to Riverdale to visit Salma and the kids. After all, you couldn''t always show up empty-handed. Nichs spotted Tavon and felt his heart skip a beat. He quickly assessed the distance between Tavon and Herman-just about fifteen feet. If Herman turned around, Tavon would definitely see him.


    Panic gripped Nichs. His hands trembled around his phone as he tried to think of a n. He had to prevent Tavon from seeing Herman, or things would go downhill fast.


    Herman was casually checking out a funnel cake stall, unaware of the tension building. Meanwhile, Tavon, with his elegant gift bag, was unknowingly walking right towards Herman.


    Just as Tavon was about to pass by Herman, a loud crash echoed nearby. Instinctively, Tavon turned to see what happened, and Herman, too, looked in the same direction. They were now just a few feet apart. If Tavon turned back, their eyes would meet. Nichs was on edge, watching this unfold. He couldn''t wait any longer. Throwing caution aside, he rushed forward, grabbed Herman, and hurriedly walked him in the opposite direction.


    When Tavon turned back, all he saw was the back of someone who looked like Herman. He shrugged it off, thinking nothing of it.


    Herman, confused, let Nichs drag him to the mouth of an alley on the next street before Nichs finally let go.


    "You''ve been following me," Herman said, his voice cold and straightforward.


    Nichs, flustered, replied, "Son, I''m worried about you. What if something happens to you out here? You''re my only boy. I heard there was a knife attack on this street justst week. It''s just not safe. Come on, let''s head home."


    Herman had known all along that Nichs was tailing him. Since Nichs hadn''t interfered, he hadn''t mentioned it. He figured it was just parental concern, though it did irritate him.


    Herman shoved his hands into his pockets, walking ahead as Nichs followed cautiously. Nichs''s nervousness was clear, motivated by fatherly concern, which added credibility to the stories Sandy had told.


    Herman saw genuine worry in Nichs''s eyes-just a father''s concern for his son. Just then, someone on the street handed Herman a flyer.


    It was an advertisement for an


    English and Frenchnguage school. The flyer was printed in English and French, with more details in thosenguages.


    To his surprise, Herman realized he understood bothnguages. Casually, he asked, "Dad, where did I go to college?"


    Nichs, treating Herman like his own son, instinctively replied, "College? You never went to college George. You barely got through high schoot I tried to get you to retake the exams, but you refused. You went straight to work."


    The real George indeed hadn''t gone to college, so Nichs''s words weren''t untrue. Yet, they nted a seed of doubt in Herman''s mind.


    How could someone with mediocre grades understand both English and French?


    He kept his suspicions to himself and probed further, "What was my first job? Tell me more about the old days, Dad."


    Nichs, wary of making a mistake,


    smiled and said, "You were always a rebel. After high school, you took off and didn''t keep in touch. I never knew what you were up to out there. You had your secrets."


    A carefully crafted response that said everything and nothing.


    Herman paused, ncing back at Nichs, whose guilty look didn''t go unnoticed.


    Herman checked the time and said, "It''s lunchtime. Let''s find a ce to eat."


    "But Sandy''s waiting for us at home, George. We should head back. You know how she worries," Nichs urged.


    "I suddenly feel like having some barbecue. Let''s eat out," Herman insisted and walked into a nearby barbecue joint. Nichs quickly sent an update to Sandy, detailing thetest turn of events.