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“I’ll take the floor,” he says, as if reading my mind. “It’s carpeted, so it will be fine.”

He goes to the closet and grabs a pillow and a blanket.

“Hunter, the bed is big enough for both of us if you want to sleep up here.” I say it to be nice, but honestly, I’m not sure I could sleep if he were that close.

“I’ll be fine down here.”

We both settle in, and I turn off the lamp. However, it’s not that late, and I’m wide awake.

“Hunter?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you want to go into the military?”

“What do you mean?”

I sit up a little. “When you were younger, did you thinkto yourself, I want to go into the military when I grow up? Or did you want to do something else?”

“I was pretty set on becoming a SEAL. It’s something I’d always been drawn to.”

I can’t imagine being drawn to something you want to do.

“How about you? Did you always want to be a real estate agent?”

I laugh. “No, that’s something I sort of fell into.”

“How?”

This isn’t a story I have told many people, but for some reason, it feels right to share it now. “My parents weren’t very responsible. I knew college was out of the question because we never planned on it and couldn’t afford it. I ended up working at a restaurant as a waitress. Bob was a regular there. He was always so kind. And then he suggested I consider his line of work. He offered to be my sponsoring broker. I got my license, and everything was going great until recently.”

He’s silent for a moment.

“Are you still awake?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’m wondering if you enjoy it at all.”

I shrug, then remember he can’t see me. The room is too dark. “It’s fine. I enjoy the money I make. I’m good at it so that helps.”

He doesn’t ask any more about it. But I have a question for him.

“Hunter, if you always wanted to be a SEAL, why did you leave the military?”

He sighs. “It’s a long story. But after our mother died, Maria needed me. We can discuss it another time.”

“Oh, okay.” Dammit, that’s probably too personal.

“Good night, Savvy.”

“Good night, Hunter.”

I stare at the ceiling and the shadows of the trees swaying in the wind. I can’t work for Bob anymore. I’ll need to find a new broker. If Bob hasn’t already poisoned the well. How do you explain that you witnessed a cartel deal and lived?

I spend the next several hours barely getting any sleep. My mind is racing. A tree branch keeps scraping against the window, and it sounds like creaking stairs. But no one is going up the stairs because I would have heard them go down first.

I close my eyes and take several deep breaths. Then I hear another creak. I sit up. I’m certain it did not come from the window. No, it came from the direction of the stairs.

“What’s wrong?” Hunter asks.