…Dickinson pov…

Emile and I approached the old Chinese man pulling the cart, I couldn't help but feel nervous. What if my guess was wrong? What if I sounded stupid? I smiled awkwardly, hoping that my apprehension wouldn't show.

"Good morning, sir," I said, trying to sound confident.

The old man looked at us both and then smiled widely. I was puzzled by his smile. Did he understand what I was trying to say? Or was he simply amused by my attempt at speaking his language?

"You can leave it to us," Emily said, her voice more assured than mine.

The old man nodded and handed over the cart to...