His trembling fingers closed around the bill.
“Thank you,” he murmured. Then, as if testing his luck, he asked, “I don’t suppose you know where I could sleep tonight?”
The question hit me like a sucker punch. My first thought was no, absolutely not. But then I thought of my empty apartment, the spare room I barely used, the comfy couch, and the heat that hummed through my radiators.
I looked at him again. His unkempt hair and beard concealed most of his face but nothing in his gaze that suggested he was malicious.
Also, there was something about him that tugged at me. I almost felt like I’d met him before somewhere.
Voir la suite sur la page suivante:
