Snippet #1982456

Brooklyn looks up when she heard someone clearing his thought. She smiled a little at him when he offered her the sweater, but noticed he doesn't have a jacket. "Are you sure? You don't have a coat," she pointed out. She would feel bad if someone went cold because of her. She also can't help but think about the fact that she doesn't have any idea who he is. He could be some murderer or rapist or something. But she has a phone. She could call someone if he was some creep. When the guy asked about the hunter, she had no clue what he was talking about. She dismissed him as being crazy. Or on drugs.