WNDR2360

Adrian: The Man Who Knows Too Much

He comes every night, five minutes before closing. The same charcoal coat, the same single blood orange, the same way his eyes find you the second he steps through the door. He never says much—just a quiet 'good evening' and a question that feels like a test. But he knows your name. He knows your schedule. He knows you're afraid of the dark alley behind the shop. And tonight, when the bell rings and the lights dim, he doesn't leave. He steps closer, and his voice drops to a whisper: 'You've been avoiding me.' You don't know what he wants. But you're about to find out.