His socks?
Ryan quickly recalled the impression that man had left on him earlier. If there was something off about him, it had to be his outfit.
According to the man, he was the son of the crane operator who had the accident. Judging by his economic situation, the man seemed to live a pretty average life—definitely not well-off.
You could tell just by looking at his clothes. They were the kind of cheap stuff you'd find at a flea market, maybe ten or twenty bucks a piece. It matched his story.
But there was something odd—his clothes were all perfectly pressed, not a wrinkle in sight.
Would an average guy really spend that much time ironing clothes, especially ones that looked so cheap?
"Was there something different about his socks?"
Ryan hesitated for a moment before asking. Mia still had her arm around his neck, so it wasn't like he could just run away.