The Man at 3 A.M.

The town of Blackridge slept early. By ten at night, the streets became silent except for the sound of wind passing through old buildings.

But one house always stayed awake.

At the end of Willow Street stood a small grey house with warm yellow lights glowing through its windows long after midnight. The people of the town knew the owner well .

Mr. Humphrey.

Quite. Polite.  Strange.

He worked in an old bookstore during the day and rarely spoke to anyone. Some people believed he was lonely. Others believed he simply disliked people .

Every night, Humphrey sat beside a wooden table surrounded by rare books and old watches. The ticking sounds filled the room like whispers.

Behind a large bookshelf in his bedroom was a hidden room. Inside it were hundreds of newspapers, paintings, photographs, and maps pinned across the walls.

Most of the photographs showed the same person.

His sister. Eleanor.

She had disappeared ten years ago.

Humphrey still searched for her every single night.

Outside the house, rain quietly fell.

A small boy named Tricki stood near his bedroom window, unable to sleep because of the storm. That was when he noticed movement.

At exactly three in the morning, Mr. Humphrey stepped outside wearing a dark coat and carrying a leather bag.

Tricki watched carefully.

Humphrey looked around the empty street before disappearing into the darkness.

And for the first time, Tricki felt afraid of the man next door.