And now this one is coming to ruin everything.
"Speak or all your little story will be discovered," he says, looking straight ahead, then I gasp thinking about what to say to him.
"I was cleaning the camera," I lie as I bite the inside of my cheek and look at the fabric of the curtain that covers the bus window.
"I'm not stupid, Tyson," he asserts, his voice so thick it makes me panic.
I didn't say anything and stood up, ready to go.
However, he stops me by holding my arm firmly.
I swallow and pull my arm discreetly, thinking that maybe it's not a good idea to make a scene here.
I look ahead, no one noticing that I stood up and then, I swallow hard and sit resignedly in the seat as the bus darkens through the tunnel.
“You're not going to say anything,” I say when it's obvious I can
