Sindy
The diner was a noisy, ordinary little place—clattering dishes, the constant hiss of running water behind the counter, the scrape of chairs, human laughter that sounded hollow in my ears. On any other night, I would have found it overwhelming. Maddening, even.
But tonight, it was the perfect kind of camouflage.
Humans never paid attention. They didn’t look too closely, not at the things that truly mattered. They could stare at a man’s face, see the shadows in his eyes, the faint unnatural sharpness of his nails, and never question it. They’d laugh, they’d sip their coffee, they’d gossip about nothing—and in their ignorance, they made it so much easier for monsters to sit among them.
I shifted in the booth, trying to make myself smaller, less visible. Across from me sat Straker. H
