I stole a glance at him — he was holding a crumpled half-used packet of wet wipes. The packaging was so wrinkled and faded it was barely recognizable. If it hadn’t been a brand commonly used by doctors, I wouldn’t have even known what it was.

He just stood there at the doorway, motionless and silent, yet his presence exuded a chilling fear. His eyes, like a snake’s, were cold and unfocused, staring right through you. A bone-deep shiver began crawling from the top of my head down to my limbs.

Those eyes seemed to question me.

They were asking — why is Cameron here?

“Jim, you’ve got some nerve...