Elena
He sat in front of an old restaurant I used to frequent when I was younger, drinking a cup of tea and trying to avert his eyes when I saw him.
He was definitely not someone from around town because if he was, he would most likely be eating the restaurant's signature pasta.
Feeling as though I was cornered, I picked up my pace and made a mental note to take another route from the farmers market when I was going back.
Luckily for me, there were no more incidents on my way back since I took the other side, but I was still apprehensive. With every couple of steps I took, I would turn to check.
"I need you to help me pick up something from Antonio," Pablo told me when I got back home.
"Antonio? Who's that?" I asked as I stepped into the house.
"You don't know him? He's my friend. H
