Page 18 of Daring

"Can I do it?" Gretel asks with a certain level of excitement.

"Sure," Abigail laughs, "but be careful; we don't want you getting burned."

Gretel approaches the car from behind, and when the papers are fully ablaze, she tosses them into the trunk and runs. They hear a burst, and within seconds, flames expand, eagerly consuming the vehicle. They feel the heat on their cheeks, standing mesmerized as the fire engulfs the car.

"We need to go," Abigail announces finally, "smoke will soon be visible from the road or the town, and they'll call the firefighters."

The two run to the wooded area, where they only have to advance about sixty meters in a straight line before reaching the road. There's a greenway on the side, so as soon as they arrive, they start walking as if they were two friends doing some exercise. In just over half an hour, they reach a village where, after waiting twenty minutes at the bus stop, they board and head back to Malaga.

They arrive in just over an hour and walk quickly towards Abigail's workplace. In doing so, they pass very close to Gretel's apartment, feeling a pang of anxiety in her chest.

"I used to live around here, or I lived," one of the streets turning right points out to Abigail.

"With all this mess, you haven't had time to think. If we get out of this, my offer stands, Gretel. You can stay with me for as long as you need."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"If we really get through this, I think I'll definitely open a churro stand," Gretel reflects aloud.

Abigail looks at her, unable to hide an expression of surprise. However, she says nothing because she spots a cellphone store run by Pakistanis and gets an idea.

"How much cash do you have?" Abigail asks Gretel.

"Ten euros," she responds somewhat embarrassed. "I guess you don't usually carry less than three hundred in your wallet."

"You're mistaken there," Abigail smiles. "I'm the card-swiping type, only keeping a twenty-bill just in case. Come, let's go to that ATM."

When they arrive, Abigail searches her sports bag for the card and withdraws four hundred euros. Gretel looks at her wide-eyed but says nothing, just follows her to the cellphone store.

"I need a phone that belongs to no one," Abigail says to the clerk when there are no other customers in the store.

"I don't know what you mean," he hesitates.

"I believe you do."

Abigail leaves a fifty-euro bill on the counter, and the young man watches them sternly.

"It'll cost you a hundred fifty with ten euros in calls," he says, looking her in the eyes for the first time.

"That's much better; give me two." After paying, they leave the store.

"Why did you buy unregistered phones?" Gretel innocently asks.

"I don't know yet, but if we have to make any calls, it's better not to leave a trace."

They reach Abigail's building, and the doorman greets her enthusiastically.

"Good morning, Mrs. Luque."

"Hello, Martin. I won't stay today, just here to pick up the car," she replies, avoiding his gaze while keeping her sunglasses on.

"Of course, have a good day."

Gretel can see the raised-eyebrow expression on the man's face when Abigail said she wasn't staying.

"Do you work on Saturdays too?"

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