The smell of the place was overwhelming: a congregation of scents, from the sting of industrial cleaner to the hearty scent of Maseca corn flour, all of which were smuggled into the scent of cardboard boxes whose contents had leaked through them in the heat, permeating the trailer of whatever semi truck they had taken to get there. The slightly cheesy accordion strokes of an upbeat Mexican norteño band was playing across the speakers. Aria stopped to listen to the basic and repetitive guitar notes and the voice of the man singing passionately over them in Spanish.

When they entered the store, Pedro greeted an older woman who was fussing over an assortment of tamales that were being held in a heated metal basin. They greeted each other with such geniality that Aria imagined them to be related. “Hey, come over here,” Pedro called to her. “This here is Doña Lolita. She’s a good woman. You can trust her.”

It was obvious that Pedro had told the woman what happened. Concern and anger were evident on her face. “Come here, mija,” she said, leading Aria behind her through the crowded aisles. She opened a door to a tiny bathroom in the back of the store and ushered Aria inside, closing the door behind her as if she alone were taking charge of Aria’s chastity.

Aria looked at herself in the mirror before cleaning herself off. The damage done to her face looked to be just on the surface, despite the blood and split in her lip. She waited for a while for the water to run hot, before deciding the place probably had no warm water. She wiped her face clean with the cold, chemical city water being pumped through the pipes, then rejoined the woman outside.

“Have some pozole, mija,” the woman said, setting a steaming soup down in front of her on the table with a little side plate of raw, shredded cabbage, raw onion, dry oregano and a golden plain tostada. Guessing that Aria had no idea what to do with it, she took her hand and sprinkled some of the cabbage and onion into the soup and stirred it around with Aria’s spoon.

“Thank you, but I can’t pay for it. I have nothing with me,” Aria said.

The woman scoffed as if insulted by the fact that Aria presumed she would have to. “Don’t worry, mija. You’re so skinny you need some food on those bones of yours,” she answered with a laugh.