A grifter, a parasite. That’s what I saw him as. Someone who preys upon others to make a quick buck. Of the numerous vagrants I had encountered in this sinful city, his kind had to be the worst.

They disgusted me. I worked hard for my indulgences, my money. And here he was— ragged, greasy, thinking of all the ways he could slip my wallet off of me. I saw the glint in his eyes, like a blade catch...

My son’s feet pitter pattered across the kitchen tile, lower lip puckered in a pout.

“But I don’t want to go to bed, the man with no eyes is waiting for me in the closet.”

A shiver rippled through my spine, gaze slowly trailing to him. No, I’m the adult. I mustn’t show fear.

This was the third day this week he protested at bedtime. I’d be lying if I said strange things hadn’t occurred around...