Zoe sat at the table facing Juan. In front of her lay a tissue with the bullet she had extracted from his arm. "Who are they?"

Juan, relaxed in the chair, his left arm wrapped, responded, "What do you mean, señorita?"

Thunder clapped, reminding her of the rain pouring outside.

"You said that if you didn't keep moving, they would kill you... Who are they?"

"I don't have to tell you that."

She folded her arms and sat back, thinking, *He knows something, Zoe... be tactical.*

Silence ensued. Zoe got up to discard the bloody tissue, then returned to her seat, her gaze drifting from the ceiling to her bare feet, and finally to her nails—anywhere but his face.

The silence lasted for two minutes.

"Do you have something here?" he asked, breaking the silence.

She faced him with a slight smile. "Something like what?"

"Food."

"Oh! I have nothing here... I was about to buy some things when I saw you and brought you to my house," she said coldly.

He placed his arms on the table. "I think I will die here as well," he sighed.

"The truth is..." she leaned forward, "I only have two bags of chips left and two bottles of cola... they're chilled."

"You are playing tricks on me, señorita," Juan said, giving her a gloomy stare.

*I definitely will play tricks on you, Juan Carlos,* she thought, raising an eyebrow.

"You don't have to believe me, Juan." She relaxed back in her chair.

"Then, get some for me, por favor."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "What does that mean?... that 'por'..."

"It means 'please' in my language," he cut in with a slight smile.

She smiled back. "Okay. I will get you some on one condition."

"What condition?"

She rose from her seat. "You have to tell me about yourself... I like to hear stories."

Juan chuckled for the first time, reminding her of Kyle, the last time he laughed.

"What if I don't have a story?"

She folded her arms. "Everyone has a story, Juan... do we have a deal?"

"Yes, we do."

"Good," she said and headed to the kitchen.

She closed the door behind her, then paced around as her thoughts raced. *Zoe, he's going to be a tough nut to crack. He's connected to the case at the precinct somehow. Maybe not. Who knows?*

She took a deep breath. "Okay, the chips."

She opened the fridge and retrieved the items.

Then she remembered the necklace she had found at the crime scene earlier. "I will check it out."

"I have the food," she announced as she came out, tray in hand.

"Finally... I thought I was going to die before you came out," he said, unclasping his hands on the table.

She set the tray on the table. "Here you go."

"Gracias... thank you."

She settled into her chair and reached for one of the chips. He tapped her hand.

"What was that for?"

He smiled. "Sorry... I usually pray before eating anything, and my mama would tap my hand if I tried to eat before doing so."

She nodded. "Okay, say the prayer then."

He looked down at his chest and touched his neck, then put his hands together.

*He was looking for a necklace,* she thought. *Maybe he lost one.*

"Close your eyes, señorita."

"Oh! Sorry," she said and closed her eyes.

"Te doy gracias, Señor, por este alimento. Gracias por la vida, Amén."

"Amen," she echoed and opened her eyes.

He took a bag of chips and tore it open. She did the same. The bottles lay untouched.

"So... do you always pray in Spanish?" Zoe asked after a minute of packet crunching and loud munching.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

He stopped chewing. "Yes... I usually pray with my necklace, but I lost it."

Her eyes widened. *Could it be the necklace I found? That would be a mad coincidence,* she thought as she chewed slowly.

He continued to chew, reaching for a bottle.

"How did you lose it?... I mean the necklace."

"It doesn't matter," he said as he opened the bottle. "You can't bring it back."

She held the bag in one hand and showed him her locket with the other. "Is it like this?"

He nodded. "No... mine has a cross on it." He took a gulp from his bottle.

*We're getting somewhere,* she thought as she opened her bottle and set it on the table.

"Tell me about yourself, Juan... anything," she said after another moment of silence.

He put the empty pack of chips on the tray and cleared his throat.

"I lost my father at a young age and was inclined to provide for my mama and two younger sisters... so I started to work."

"What kind of work did you do?" Zoe asked, dropping her empty packet. She dusted off her hands.

He sighed and glanced at the ceiling. "I would do odd jobs in the favela back then... sweeping stores, cleaning windows, and polishing shoes.. so I could support my mama in her taco business."

She saw the sparkle in his eyes. "Oh! Tacos!... your mum made them?"

"Si... they were perfecto," he said with a smile.

She looked straight at him. "So where is she now?... your mum."

"In a safe place."

"So... what job are you doing now?"

He looked away. "I work as a messenger."

"For who?"

"I don't need to tell you that."

"We had a deal, Juan Carlos."

He banged the table with his fist. She shook.

"You are a stranger! Thank you for saving my life, but I won't tell you everything."

She raised her hands. "No problem... I understand you. It's very late now, you must be tired, and...."

"I am not spending the night here," he cut in.

She got up. "It's still raining outside, Juan."

"I don't care... I have to keep moving."

"I have a spare room... you can stay there until morning..." He looked up at her. "Or until tomorrow night... by then, you will be strong enough to travel."

He smiled. "I must say, señorita... you remind me of my sister, Renata."

*I guess she's as crazy as I am,* she thought.

"Should I prepare the room for you?"

"I will stay. Tomorrow night, I will leave."

"Great," she said and headed to the rooms.

The second room was where Kyle used to stay. She dreaded stepping in there even though Lydia assured her it was empty.

She switched on the light, which filled the room, bringing back memories.

The closet at the far end of the room stood like a doorway to somewhere familiar. It was the main hiding place for snacks and sweets that she and Kyle would smuggle in during parties held at the apartment then.

They would have an extra 'stash' of goodies.

Zoe didn't notice the tear that escaped until it slid down her cheek. She smiled.

Lydia had left behind a small mattress in the enclosed wall bed. After five minutes of vacuuming and laying the bed, the room was ready.

She stood at its entrance, then mustered the courage to approach the cupboard.

"There's nothing here," she said.

"Is there supposed to be something there?"

She turned. "Oh gosh! You startled me," she said, holding her chest.

"Lo siento... sorry," he said as he leaned on the door frame. "I got tired of sitting."

"It's alright... I thought I would find some clothes here that would fit you."

"Ay!... don't worry, the room is enough.. I will manage... gracias." He walked to the bedside.

She stood at the doorway after showing him where the washroom was. "Goodnight, Juan."

"Buenas noches... Zoe." She closed the door on her way out and sighed.

Then she ran into her room and locked the door.

"What have you done, Zoe?" she said to her reflection in the dressing mirror.

Thoughts raced in her mind as she plopped on her bed. *You have work tomorrow, and Pascal will be knocking in the morning.*

*How will you keep him away, Zoe?*

She picked up her watch on the bedside table. "Quarter to midnight... oh well, my eyes will get a little swollen." She sighed.

Then she sat up as a thought flashed. She got up and retrieved the necklace from her coat.

She raised it up. A cross was its jewel.

"Oh no... this can't be," she muttered as she made her way to the bed. Then she sat down.

"Only one way to find out. But that would be tomorrow," she yawned. Then stretched out on the bed.

Her ringing phone woke her up the next morning. She jumped out of bed.

It was Pascal calling. "Hello."

"Hey, Zoe... I came to invite you for a jog hours ago, but you didn't answer the door."

She faked a sick voice. "Oh, Pascal! I'm so sorry... the weather got to me, I have a cold."

"Goodness, Zoe! Should I come over?..."

"No.. no, please don't worry... it's a mess over here, and you have to go to the precinct."

"Zoe... I can go a bit late. Someone has to stay with you... I mean.."

She faked a cough. "I know what you

mean, Pascal... thank you for your concern... but it's just a cold... when I feel better, I will give you a call, okay?"

"Okay... I will tell them at the precinct that you called in sick today.. don't forget to call."

"I won't... thanks, Pascal."

"Bye, Zoe... get well soon."

"Bye," she said and ended the call.

Then she remembered the stranger in her house.

She came out in her pyjamas to see Juan on the longest couch, eyes fixed on the TV.

"Good morning," she said, and he turned.

He was in a different shirt, a little smaller than his size. His bandage was clean.

"Good morning, señorita... did you sleep well?"

"Yes... where did you get the...."

He looked down at his shirt. "This one?... I found it in that closet... with a towel."

She sat on the couch across from him. "That's nice... what are you watching?"

He reclined on the sofa. "The news."

"I heard someone was shot yesterday at the Imperial park... a CEO of some lab..." she said, watching his face for any reaction.

"Spring Labs," he said, eyes still on the TV.

*He is connected somehow,* she thought.

"Have you been there before?"

He faced her. "Where?"

"The park... Imperial park."

He looked away. "Not at all."

"Well, I was there yesterday and I found something very interesting." She sat up.

"I don't think I will be interested," he said and changed the channel.

"Okay... I need to freshen up and buy some things, or we will starve." She sprang up.

He switched off the TV. "Won't you go to work... or are you without a job?"

She faced him with hands on her hips. "If you must know, Juan... I have a job... but I can't leave you here all day... a stranger."

"What do you do?"

Her heart skipped, and she headed for the door. "I will answer your question after a shower and change of clothes, okay?"

"If you say so, señorita..."

"What does that mean?" She spun to face him.

His head rested on his folded arms at the top of the couch. "Señorita is how we address young women in my language."

"Okay... how do you address young men?"

"We call them Chico."

She smiled. "I'll be back, chico."

He chuckled, and she headed to her room.

Half an hour later, Zoe was dressed in a turtle neck sweater, trousers, and sneakers.

"Not bad," she said, staring at her reflection. Then she headed to her bedside table where she retrieved the necklace. "Time to find out."

Juan was lying face up on the couch when she walked in.

"Hey, Chico..."

He sat up and raised his eyebrows. "You look like you want to jog."

"No, I actually want to pawn this necklace," she said and brought it out of her pocket.

He sprang up from the couch. "Mi Señor... where did you get that from?"

She backed away as he approached her. "At the park yesterday... I told you, right?"

He paused. "Uh... it looks like the one I lost."

"Really?" she asked.

"Let me see it, please."