Vincenzo Dante Volkov:

His voice was low, calm, unhurried—like a man who had all the time in the world.

I stared at him for a moment before taking the headphones from his hand. “Thanks,” I muttered, my voice equally steady.

We stood there, watching each other, two strangers who’d just crossed paths in the middle of the night. Something about him unsettled me—no fear, no hesitation. He was too calm, too composed, and that put me on edge.

“Didn’t expect anyone out ...