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Summary
“Danny!” A tired looking kid in a pink puffer jacket, pink backpack and Pichachu knit hat ran up to me on 54th Street. I nearly jumped out of my skin when she wrapped her arms around my knees. What the fuck? She turned what should have been big brown eyes up to me but they were clotted with an otherworldly control. A woman in scrubs looking just as tired came running up and grabbed the girl’s arm. She looked at me with the same dead gray eyes.
“Danny, it's not safe to be out,” she said. I shook the kid off and walked away. The mother stared at me slack jawed, her long curly hair catching in her open mouth.
“Yeesh,” I said. Quite the trick. I should have known Armand would find another disguise to get out of facing me