Two days later, Louisa still fretted for Uncle Uto's safety and it was one of the core reasons she'd not left town.
That night, she had walked for what seemed like hours, every step radiating pain through her body. It had been a great risk walking towards the Plaza at that time of the night, but it had been the only option if she was to find an ATM that worked. She had heard of how dangerous Plaza was at night, the young boys that hung around stealing from unsuspecting pedestrians foolish enough to be out and about at such an hour.
With fear crawling in her skin like a live creature, Louisa had used the ATM, removing as much as she could. She had stuffed the bulk of the money down her pant and had left a couple of thousands in her back pocket, something to give the thieves if she got waylaid. But she never did. Plaza had seemed like a ghost land as she walked through it, she had been responsible for terrifying herself with every sound and shadow she encountered.
