“Can I Sit With You?” The Mafia Boss Asked The Homeless Woman — Unaware She Was His Past Eye Donor

Chapter 2

The legs scraped against the floor, and throughout the room behind him, everyone who had been holding their breath began breathing again at the same time, very softly, as though the simple act of his sitting had loosened a knot someone had drawn tight around all their throats. Dean Marsh remained standing with his hands clasped over his stomach, and he didn’t sit.

Nora heard two men — one seated, one standing — and the standing man was breathing a little too heavily through his nose. People often forgot that discomfort had a sound of its own.

Julian didn’t waste time. He asked where she’d gotten the dog. The question fell flat upon the table, colorless, without even the faintest trace of feigned curiosity. Nora was holding her spoon. She didn’t set it down. She kept her hand exactly where it was and answered that he was her dog. That was all. A silence followed, lasting precisely three heartbeats. Julian leaned back, and Nora heard the chair give a small creak beneath him.

He said he hadn’t asked whose dog it was. He’d asked where it came from. She tilted her head slightly and, for the first time that evening, turned her face fully toward him, the dark lenses of her glasses catching the warm yellow light and throwing it back. She told him he was sitting at her table, breathing her air, asking about her dog, and she hadn’t even asked his name. She said she thought that was fair enough.