I stopped again.
“This is going to sound crazy.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
I laughed once beneath my breath.
“I think somebody’s been stalking me.”
The tattoo machine continued humming between us.
Nixx didn’t react. Not with surprise. Not with skepticism. He simply waited.
It was strangely comforting.
“What makes you think that?” he asked.
I found myself telling him everything. About the preserved dandelion puffs. About the anonymous texts. About the strange little seed puff emoji.
About coming home to find gifts sitting where no one should’ve been able to leave them.
He listened without interrupting once. Not a single time.
When I finished, he was quiet for several seconds.
Then he asked, “Has he threatened you?”
“No.”
“Asked you for money?”
“No.”
“Tried to get inside
