One night, Aidan is roaming the Castro. It is late. All of the stores, even the bars, have closed; all except one. It would be easy to miss it, even though the words The Mystic Eye, lettered in iridescent gold and violent purple, arch over a turquoise and black eye. It would be simple to walk right by, even though from behind dusty windows, crystal balls and tarot cards whisper promises and happy endings.