Isaac and I halted immediately, our grip on each other tightening as our bodies went cold and frozen like a bag of peas in the refrigerator.

"Give me your fucking wallet!" the voice shouted and Isaac retrieved the wallet. "Fucking bastard, give it!"

Isaac threw it towards him and it landed some distance towards the criminal's right. Fleetingly, the man considered before reaching towards the wallet. As if possessed by external lunatic energy, my eyes spotted a large rock and I lifted it with both my hands.

"What the hell, Ana?" Isaac tried to hold me back, but I was already in front of the criminal and hurled the rock. It roughly hit him on the back and caused the man (who upon close inspection was intoxicated) to drop flat on the ground, whimpering like a wounded puppy.

I stooped down in a frenzy to pick the wallet, but Isaac grasped my arm and dragged me away with a rigidness that was completely unlike him.

We both were shaken like petals close to withering and when we safely arrived at Isaac's place, Isaac had helped me inside his car. We sat in complete silence, both of us unable to start a conversation. I wanted to speak, but I waited patiently for him to process everything.

When he drove us on the highway, I couldn't resist anymore. "Did I kill him?"

"Jesus, no!" he cried out, shaking his head. "Why would you say that?"

"I don't know. You aren't saying anything."

"After I drop you to your grandma's place, I'll go check if he-he's---"

"No, Isaac---"

"I'll check from afar in my car, don't worry about me," he said and I sighed, a sigh which should have made me feel lighter, but the heaviness still lay very heavily on me.

"I shouldn't have done that. That's what you're thinking, right?" I questioned and he remained awfully quiet. "I don't know what happened, but I thought it the best to do that. I was afraid that he would chase us later or something. And I know people like these Isaac, they're all addicts who want easy money. It's easy to knock them off since they're high all the time. I could have taken the wallet---"

"He could have hurt you," he cut me off, his voice grim and low. "You were so near him."

"But he didn't hurt me," I snapped, not understanding the reason why I found pleasure in this argument. "I have lived there for several years. I know what it's like. You wouldn't know."

Isaac continued to maintain his silence as a way to not escalate this fight any further, but his silence irked me more. I wanted to provoke him to say something, but my own haughtiness overcame me. It was a battle of silence vs silence and I was going to triumph.

When we arrived at my grandma's place, Isaac stared at me, hoping for a few words or a kiss even, but I turned my face away. Before I could leave, he urgently held my hand. My stiffness melted when I felt his soft lips hover over my palm. He murmured, "I don't know when I'll get to meet you and I know that you don't want to talk right now. We shouldn't talk now. It's best for us to go home and sleep . . . But I still love you, okay?"

His lips pressed against my skin and my eyes locked into his, dissipating all the last fragments of anger. His curls were a little frizzy and his pale grey eyes were drooping. He looked so worn-out, yet a smile was plastered on his face. He had another two-hour drive back home . . .

I threw my arms around his neck, giving him all the warmth that I had in me before pulling away and scurrying towards the house.

"It's almost ten," Marta said, folding her arms against her chest when I tacitly entered.

"I'm sorry. Did abuela find out?" I asked and she put a finger to her lips, leading me to our room.

"Thank Juan, he troubled her so much that she slept." She shut the door softly and plonked on her bed. "How was your day?" I shrugged, brushing the knots in my hair. "Well, as long as you had a good time. Switch off the lights soon, I have to sleep. I have a meeting early in the morning."

I did as I was told, switching off the lights and climbing in my bed, but I didn't sleep. I was wide awake, clutching the phone in my clammy hands and only two hours later when I got a text from Isaac that the man had disappeared, did I squeeze my eyes shut. Various images flashed before me from the past weeks, all images blurring into one single day and tormenting me. I kept tossing and turning on the bed like a lost dear running helter-skelter, trying to evade the cruel hunter.

I didn't know when I slept, but I woke up to the sweltering afternoon sunlight burning my skin. I blinked in mild vexation and my abuela smiled apologetically. She let go of the curtains. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

I got up slowly, rubbing my eyes which felt swollen. "No, it's okay. It's so late anyway."

"How was studying yesterday? The library has so many books, that must have kept you there for such a long time," she mused, smiling that her granddaughter was hardworking.

When in reality, I had almost killed a man with a rock.

She put Marta's nightclothes in the laundry basket and exited. I went through my usual morning ablutions, then hearing Juan's laugh, I went out to play with him. The baby squealed in delight as I tickled the rolls of his neck, then resisting no more, I took the jolly baby in my arms and sat on the sofa.

Just then, my phone buzzed and expecting a text from Isaac, I opened the chats. Instead, there came a series of pictures from an unknown number. The pictures loaded and Juan reached merrily to tap the shiny screen. All of them were me in the most vulnerable, pitiful state.

I struggled to breathe at seeing the naked length of me on the cardboard-like sofa and angrily swatted Juan's hand away, shutting off the phone. The baby howled with tears and Marta, who I had not noticed all this while, shot up from the desk in surprise. Without meeting her eyes, I thrust the baby in her arms and dashed to the privacy of our room, the baby's cries ringing in my ears.