Page 31 of Miguel

I gaped at the cast one hand was in.

“Sir, are you okay? What happened?”

He jolted and laughed nervously. “This old thing? Nothing for you to worry about. An old injury acting up. Yeah, that’s it. Please leave my office now, Señorita Flores. You have a class to teach.”

“O-kaaaay…” I stood slowly and tip-toed out of there cautiously, throwing glances at my boss from over my shoulder with every few steps. He looked nervous, almost unhinged.

What the hell had happened to him?

The question haunted me for a full five minutes until my kids demanded my attention and everything else was blown away. Soon I was lost in the fray of toys, songs, crayons, scissors, and glue. It wasn’t until after school ended, and I went another day without seeing Señor Lopez, that my mind finally settled, calming down after the chaos. I tried to forget everything from the hectic day to Ramón’s odd behavior.

I made my way home, jostling in my seat on the bus, feeling a strange sensation of loneliness that didn’t quite belong. I’d always been happy with my life. It had always felt fulfilling. Helping kids was a passion, but I couldn’t deny that I wanted some of my own beyond work, and going home to a quiet house brought with it what felt like a whole new level of sadness.

With a sigh, I hopped off the bus and walked a block towards my apartment building and up two flights of stairs, only to freeze in my tracks.

The door to our apartment was open.

Panic gripped my chest. We lived in an okay neighborhood, but crime ran rampant, and I’d always known that no one waseverone hundred percent safe. Desireeneverleft the door open. She was even more meticulous with her protection than I was, pervert of a boss aside. She was cautious, almost as if she forcibly had to be. We never talked about it, like it was an unspoken rule between us not to bring up her past. Her life experiences.

But seeing the door ajar now was like seeing a person with three arms or eyes. It shouldn’t be possible. It just didn’t fit.

I approached it cautiously, pushing the rest of it open with the palm of my hand. I couldn’t cry out, because Desiree wouldn’t hear me if she was even inside.

Please don’t be inside.

I sent that silent prayer up as I stepped into the house. I kept hold of my bag. If anyone was still in here, I’d use it as a weapon. They’d find out just how much a bag of school supplies really did hurt.

Passing the hall that led out into the living room and dining room, I felt my heart bottom out to my stomach. The whole place… It was completely trashed.

Chairs and our table were flipped over. The TV was blown to smithereens as if it’d been hit by a bat. I held my breath, choking back tears as I saw the stuffing of our couch splayed over the floor like fluffy snow I’d never seen in person. I made my way to Desiree’s room, finding it open. It was a mess, almost as bad as outside. I went to my room, but it seemed untouched, left exactly as it had been when I’d gone out this morning.

Had whoever came targeted Desiree?

A sob threatened to choke out of me. I searched the bathrooms quickly, but found nothing. My roommate wasn’t here.

My hand fumbled inside my purse to find my phone. I was prepared to call 911. I was ready to screech and demand they find my friend, but before my trembling fingers could dial, I heard a fumble coming from the hallway’s closet.

Was it the culprit, hiding there to attack me?

I edged closer to it, reaching out a hand to open the door.

It flew open and a scream left me as the person crouching on the closet floor whimpered.

I dropped my bag to the ground.

“Desi?” My knees followed as I crouched in front of her.

Her entire body was trembling, and my eyes did a quick assessment of her. She had no signs of bruising or markings, but her cheeks were red, her eyes blotchy from crying.

“Desi, what happened?”

She could barely focus on my rapid, shaky signing. But she did throw herself at me, wailing in terrifying sobs. Her body wracked with them, trembling as she held onto me like I was her lifeline.

My hand went to her dark hair, smoothing it back. I pulled away, though I loathed to do it.

“Are you okay?” She obviously wasn’t. But I needed to know if she had any broken bones, any bruises or… injuries I couldn’t see.

She sniffled and her hands shook as she signed back to me. “Is he gone?”

---