Lolita was uneasy. She looked over at Aria as if trying to decide what to do with her. The look made Aria feel like she had worn out her welcome. Not wanting to burden her any further, Aria took the lollipop that Lolita had also given her from the table and placed it in her coat pocket. She got up and asked, “Should I put these anywhere?” referring to the mess she had made at the table.

“No, mija, it’s OK. It’s OK, I’ll take care of it,” Lolita said, coming over to usher away the mess herself.

“Thank you, really, thank you so much for everything,” Aria said, not knowing how to repay the generosity that Lolita had shown her.

“Just be safe and don’t get yourself into any more trouble.”

Aria shrugged and nodded her head.

“Let the Virgen María guide over you,” Lolita said, patting Aria on the sleeve of her coat.

Aria walked through the aisles to the door of the store. “Thank you again,” she said, extending one last appreciative look in Lolita’s direction.

She decided to walk a different way back toward the car lot, having to backtrack a few times because the route was unfamiliar. The idea of waiting to see Omkar in the boredom of the empty car lot was usually tedious, but after the intensity of the day so far, it felt soothing. She pulled out the Rebanaditas lollipop from her pocket and tore off the yellow wrapper. Aria was confounded to see that the lollipop was covered in a dust that looked like chili powder. She didn’t know whether to expect it to be sweet or savory. She stuck out the tip of her tongue to find out. It was salty. She could not find any sweetness beyond the taste of salt and the sting of the hot pepper. “How strange,” she thought to herself. But she put it in her mouth anyway. Overwhelmed by the off-putting taste of pure hot chili powder, she held it in her mouth for a few seconds before the faint flavor of watermelon candy peeked through. She smiled to herself because the experience was symbolic of the day so far, which had started off unsavory and turned out sweet.

Up until that day, Aria had been afraid of Mexican men. She had thought them to be venal and barbaric. Never did she imagine that two of them would be the preventers instead of the perpetrators of a crime against her. It felt strange to know nothing about them aside from their names, even stranger to ponder the webbing of life. It never ceased to amaze Aria to imagine people’s separate lives and to see how the threads of their life paths were suddenly woven together in one place for one singular experience.