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8- Feel secure of yourself

Moreover, this world is so messed up that some cavemen only respect women when they are "backed up" by a man. Why can't a woman be respected for just existing?

I tense up a little when Dakota's arm wraps around my waist and clings to the fabric of my shirt, but I try to calm down under the inquisitive gaze of this Rod.

"Your boyfriend?" he inquires when he finally stops harassing us with his damn eyes. "I thought you were with the redhead, haven't seen him around here in a while. Maybe about six months?"

Dakota's gaze darkens.

"So, you know Faven?" she says.

"Of course," he takes out his phone from his pocket and looks at it. "Everyone here does."

"Not you. Almost nobody, actually," she asserts. Her tone of voice is fierce. "What time were you supposed to go to your room?"

"Hey, why are you talking to me informally? I'm still in charge of you here."

"I never told you his name," the shirt clings to my abdomen as she grips it even tighter. "I repeat, Mr. Rod Hart, what time were you supposed to go to your room?"

"Mrs. Sanah knew his name," he calmly responds. "In such a small place, we know everything about everyone. And I don't remember the schedules from six months ago. I changed my shift several times during that time."

Out of nowhere, Dakota starts stretching the corners of her lips into a smile. It's that kind of smile that says: I found something important. Coming from her, being incredibly nosy, it's scary.

"The truth, Rod Hart," she loosens her grip on my clothes, "you know about Faven, don't you? He's my best friend, and he," she points at me, "is his boyfriend."

"What did you say!?"

"Damn snot…" Dakota steps on my foot, and the groan prevents me from completing the sentence. Ahh, I hate her!

"Oh, really?" Rod puts his phone aside. The girl's smile grows even bigger.

"Yes. You're not homophobic, are you?"

He laughs with false serenity. "I don't have a closed mind. This is the twenty-first century, Dakota."

"Sure," she shakes her head as if confirming something to herself. "I'm leaving with Er…ratón. Are my things where I left them?"

What the hell? Er…ratón?

"They should be," the guy replies. "Don't forget to visit us."

"Yeah, yeah. Goodbye. Let's go get my things, Erratón."

Minutes later, Dakota and I walk a slight distance apart from each other, while she shows me part of a photo album and explains each part of it with a melancholic smile on her face. Her whole life is captured there; she seems to love that place that took her in.

Once we reach a relatively inexpensive café, she puts aside anything related to her past and, clasping her hands on the table, starts giving me the reasons for her previous behavior.

"I suspect him," she confesses, without hesitation. "That bastard, he always hated Faven for no reason. I just proved it."

"Are you suggesting he was stalking him?"

"No, I think he could have harmed him with more than just words. I caught the idiot lurking nearby while I was talking to Faven sometimes, but I didn't think anything weird about it, because he never directly interfered," she clicks her tongue. "Who's to say he didn't use one of Favie's vulnerabilities against him so that, combined with his hidden sadness, he would attempt to take his life?"

"I think you're delusional," I take a deep breath. "If that happened, there's not much we can do to fix it. What will we achieve?"

"Have you never had regrets?" she closes her eyes. "Are you going to tell me you don't want to say all the things you never said?"

"Dakota…"

"It's my way of redeeming myself, why have we come to this point again, Eron Montjoy?" she opens her eyelids, and her pupils accuse me blatantly. "I want the best for Faven Hope to be thought of. I'd like to say that I can do it with or without your help, but I need someone who believes in him as much as I do."

It would be a lie to deny everything she mentions because it's true. I've always wanted to tell my best friend how important he was to me, how inspiring he was, in addition to his undeniable brilliance.

I want… I really want to say so much…

"I don't have your dreamer spirit, Dakota. I barely gather strength every morning to get out of bed," I exhale. "What's your plan to achieve something? Because no matter how positive your enthusiasm is, Faven won't come back to life. And if we want to clear his name, we need to avoid doing foolish things."

She nibbles on her lips as she seems to be thinking. She still appears as energetic as ever, but I find flickers of doubt in her eyes. Maybe it's best if I give her a hand this time.

—I think that in order to come up with a good plan together, we need to get to know each other," I mention. Immediately, I catch her attention. "Faven's anecdotes and a few days in the hospital don't count. In order to know if what we want to do is going to work, we have to learn to trust each other. I don't know you, so I can't trust you enough to create a plan that involves Fave's death." I don't notice her very convinced, but I won't make an effort to change that. I've already reached my word limit per minute, and I made it very clear that I won't hang out with her just because she spent time with me in the hospital or whatever. My gratitude doesn't translate into servitude.

"You're stubborn. Haven't they told you?" she sits up straight in the chair. "Go ahead. Spit it all out. How are we supposed to get to know each other? I'm listening."

I raise my eyebrows.

"Do you expect me to ask you questions or something? We can leave that to the police."

"Eron, I'll go ahead with this plan with or without you. I am bending over backwards because I would prefer it to be with you, but I won't back down. I will start working even before earning your valuable trust," she affirms, with an irony that bothers me a little. Is that how I sound? "So, are you going or not?"

Oh, damn it. I thought it would be much easier to get rid of her, but she's persistent.

"I want you to tell me about your experience with Rod Hart," I blurt out the first thing I really want to know. The tension in her body doesn't please me. "I can tell you something personal afterwards in exchange."

"I know that trick. Who's to say that after I tell you everything, you'll tell me something?"

"That's what it's about, Dakota. This is the first test of trust. You'll have to trust me. Take it or leave it."

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