Carla
The last thirty minutes are the longest I ever have to endure. If salivating can make me satisfied, I should not be spying on the food with so much interest.
The car pulls over at the end of the road leading toward the beach, and I see about five men in black uniforms. Their appearance sets them apart from the other people we saw tonight, as a beautifully designed ‘H’ is on the left breast pocket region. I must say they even look tougher.
Our driver, who also is Don Angelo’s bodyguard, Hattos, remains in place, with his hands on the steering wheel. When Don Angelo rolls down the glass, I feel the cool night breeze seeping into my bones. This place is extremely cold at night.
I watch as the men bow to him and speak in unison, “Don!!!” Whatever they’re here to do cannot be good,
