“Lovely weather, isn’t it?” The man beside me says.

I don’t look up from my phone as I respond. “Yeah, definitely.”

Silence follows. I check the time, sighing when I realize the bus is late. I scoff and turn to the man, ready to complain.

Then I see him.

His friendly smile is there but it betrays the look in his eyes—bloodshot, wide, unblinking. They’re dead eyes, staring straight through me, and my heart stops. A stare I thought I’d never have to face again.

“Lovely weather, isn’t it?” He repeats, but I know what he means this time.

I smile back, trying to seem unphased, but my voice shakes as I respond. “Yeah, definitely.”