I stood next to Miguel in the alley where we were attacked last night. I wasn't fond of this dark alley at all; it was simply far too narrow for almost everything. And no, the dead end was not the safest place to be here at all. My paranoia—which I neglected—had proven to be the better of us that night.
Miguel seemed a bit more like himself today. But earlier this morning, he seemed incredibly different. Anomalous. He wasn't himself. I could've only guessed what other matters he ussually attended to on his own. Where was he going—and most importantly—why?
'He even made an entire rule to cover up the fact,' I thought. 'The fact that he won't always be there for us and so we shouldn't depend on him.'
Miguel was suspicious. Whatever he was doing, he had a good reason to hide it from us — I was sure of it. But until he disclosed, I couldn't help
