Xiaotao impatiently pushed the driver's arm, "Are you deaf?"

The driver's right prosthetic hand fell off, throwing Xiaotao for a loop since I hadn’t mentioned the previous incident to her.

"Don't be impulsive, let me try!" I said.

I walked over and waved my hand in front of the driver's eyes but still he showed no response. Then, I leaned in.

Last time we were on the bus, I didn't get a good look at his appearance. But this time, I was standing close enough to him to realize he seemed a little familiar. When I compared him to the photo of the driver who committed suicide ten years ago, realization dawned upon me.

Although their features were slightly different, the bone structure was similar. I noticed that there was a contrast between the color of the skin around his neck and...