Chapter 5: The Stranger at the Café
654 Words
From the bank, Valentina took another cab ,destination—Marco.
He was the only person she could count on. The quiet boy with tired eyes and a sharp mind she’d met back in school. The one who never asked too many questions but always got things done. He made her fake ID months ago, and now, she needed something bigger.
The cab stopped in front of a small restaurant that looked like it hadn’t changed since the ‘80s. She adjusted her cap and slipped in quietly.
Marco was exactly where she expected him to be — the last booth near the window, face half-covered by his black cap, slouched with his phone in hand. He straightened up as soon as he saw her.
“Hey,” she said, sliding into the seat opposite him.
He nodded once. “You look tense.”
“You would too if your family just sold you off,” she muttered, dropping her bag beside her.
Marco’s brows furrowed slightly. “You’re serious?”
“Very.” She sighed, brushing her hair back. “I don’t want to talk about it. I need your help.”
He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “Alright. What do you need this time?”
“A passport. One that works across borders. And—” she hesitated, “I need someone taken safely out of my house.”
His gaze sharpened. “Taken out?”
“Not like that,” she said quickly. “It’s Mama Gloria. She’s— she’s family, not by blood, but she’s the only person who’s ever cared for me. If they find out I’m planning to leave, they might hurt her to keep me in check.” Valentina was sober.
Marco stayed silent for a moment, then said, “When does she usually go out?”
“Wednesday mornings. She goes to church every week, same time, same route.”
“Good. That’s the only window I need.”
Valentina nodded. “Make it clean, Marco. No noise, no mistakes.”
“You know I don’t do noise.”
They exchanged a look — the kind that didn’t need further explanation. For two hours, they went over every detail. The timing, the drop points, the ID requirements, the fake background she’d need for her new passport.
By the time they were done, her throat was parched and her voice a little hoarse. She pushed an envelope toward him.
“Half now,” she said. “You’ll get the rest when it’s done.”
Marco took it without protest. “I’ll call you when everything’s set. Same number?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
He got up, adjusted his cap, and left through the back door.
When she stepped outside, Valentina stretched her arms and tilted her head to the sun. The air smelled of roasted coffee and warm bread from the café just across the street. Her throat felt dry — two hours of talking and no sip of water.
She crossed the street and pushed the café door open.
Weirdly, there was no one behind the counter. The soft chime above the door rang, echoing in the empty space.
“Hello?” she called.
No answer.
She frowned, taking a few steps forward. The smell of coffee lingered, so someone had to be there.
Just as she turned to leave, movement caught her eye — a man sitting alone at the far end of the café.
She hesitated, then walked toward him. “Excuse me,” she said, stopping by his table. “Do you work here? I was just..”
The man looked up.
Her words died instantly. His grey eyes, cool and unbothered, caught hers in an instant — so sharp they almost felt unreal. And that face — effortlessly handsome, dangerously composed- drew her in before she could think.
It was as if her lungs forgot how to function.
- Writer
