FORTY

The building is nothing special. Just a two-story house standing in a quiet area on the outskirts of Chicago. There is a swing and a pink bicycle in the yard. On the verandah, a little girl is playing barbie alone. She was busy muttering, talking to her doll and then pretending to pour tea into a miniature pink cup. The girl looked up when she heard footsteps approaching her. Her round eyes blinked twice. She was only up to the man's waist when she stood up and tried to greet him.

"Hello. I'm Sasha. What I can do for you?”

Her mother was the most perfect and the kindest teacher for her. Ever since she was very young, she had been taught to be polite to people who came to their house. Her grandparents are even proud of her because she always remembers the manners lessons from her mother well.

“Hello Sasha. Is your mother at home?”

The man smiled faintly and squatted down. He stroked the top of Sasha's head gently. The girl's hair was brownish blonde and hung over her petite shoulde