No

Yeah, you probably shouldn't follow him. He didn't do anything wrong, and maybe he's got family here or something.

After saying exchanging a few polite words with Thea, she grabs her bucket and continues on with her chores, leaving you alone with your relaxing afternoon once more.

As the usual crowd slowly moves past you on the way to their various tasks, the calming repetition of it all soon makes you forget about the trench coat-wearing stranger.

As the sun begins to set, you slowly make your way towards home. Passing by stores closing up shop and families coming home from says working in the field, you finally reach your small home on the edge of town. Your blissful walk home is interrupted, however, by the sight of a horse tied up outside your house! Not just any horse, but the same large brown horse, with the same white spot on its thigh, as the stranger rode!

You run inside, nervous and concerned, and find your single mother sighting in a chair, drinking tea with a man you've never seen!

Well, that's not true, you're pretty sure you've sen him before--he's the stranger from that morning! He's wearing the trench coat, albeit much looser, and you can see his hat on the back of his chair.

"Mom?" you ask, as calmly as possible. "Who is this?"

"Oh, hello John!" your mother greets sweetly. "Home so soon? I must have lost track of time! This is my new friend, Miles Bennett!"

"Who is he?" you stubbornly ask.

Your mother opens her mouth to respond, but the dark-skinned stranger holds up a hand. "I can explain this, Ada." He stands up to shake your hand. You don't shake it. "I'm Miles Bennett. I had family here once upon a time, and I returned to see if any of them were still alive. Your mother here, being the town historian, is helping me track them down."

You suppose this is an acceptable answer, and concede to shake his hand. "There you go," he smiles down at you. "A firm handshake. Like a man." Suddenly, his smile turns into a cruel, sadistic grin, which is gone as soon as it appeared, leaving you stunned.

"John?" your mother asks. "Is there something wrong?"

"N-no, nothing at all..." You're just being paranoid, you think, as Miles suddenly looks through his bag.

"Oh, by the Gods!" he groans. "I appear to have left my journal in the tavern! I have to go get it!"

"No, no," your mother says, grabbing his arm. "John can go get it! Right, John?"