Chapter 55

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Dusk descends over the interstate like a fog and I pull off the road in Fairfax for a bite to eat. I pick a sit-down restaurant just to unwind from the drive a bit, and as I’m looking over the menu, a man around my age approaches my booth with an all-too-familiar grin on his face. He has dyed black hair pulled back in a tight ponytail and a pierced eyebrow, and facial hair so trimmed and smoothed down that it looks painted into place. He stops at my table and waits until I lower the menu before his smile kicks up a notch. “Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asks, his voice smoked out and mellow. “Or do I need to walk by again?”