CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR

“Have you packed all what professor Ericson mentioned?” Trisha asked Harold as he zipped up his bag with much difficulty because of the too many cans of food he had in it.

Harold picked up the letter, brushed through the many wordings till he got to where professor Ericson had listed the things he should take. “It all remains a pocket knife,” he said, dropped the paper on his bed and zipped up the remaining space that was left at once.

“And where are you going to get that?” she challenged him, folding her arms. Wilkes sat on his own bed, watching the couple. They were always breathing down each other's necks and although it didn't look like it most times, it was because they cared for each other.

“Uhm, I don't know,” Harold replied, swinging his heavy bag over his shoulder.

“Are you sure you want to carry such an heavy bag everywhere you go for three days?” Wilkes asked, eyeing Harold's brown leather bag that protru