The sun hung low in the sky as Lolita made her way back to the market stall, the warm glow casting long shadows on the cobblestone streets. Despite the inviting light, a heaviness settled in her heart. The morning's events loomed in her mind, and the thought of Clara's departure weighed heavily on her shoulders.
As she approached her stall, the familiar scents of citrus and earth mingled in the air, but today, they felt less comforting. She straightened her back, putting on a brave face for the customers who would soon swarm her.
"Hey, Lolita!" called out Mrs. Ramirez, a frequent shopper who always haggled for a better price. "How much for the oranges today?"
"Three for a dollar, as usual," Lolita replied, her voice flat. She fought to suppress the frown tugging at her lips.
"Three? You're kidding! Last week they were two for a dollar," Mrs. Ramirez shot back, hands on her hips.
"Oranges are in season, Mrs. Ramirez. It's a fair price," Lolita countered, trying to maintain her composure.
Mrs. Ramirez's eyes narrowed. "Fine, but I'll take them for two-fifty."
Lolita sighed, feeling the stirrings of irritation bubbling beneath her skin. "I can't do that. Three for a dollar or no sale."
With a huff, Mrs. Ramirez relented, tossing her a few coins. "You drive a hard bargain, Lolita, but I'll take them."
As the day wore on, more customers arrived, all eager to negotiate. "What do you have today?" a man in a worn hat asked, his voice gruff.
"Fresh oranges, just picked," Lolita replied, trying to infuse a bit more cheer into her tone.
"I'll give you two dollars for a dozen," he offered, his expression unreadable.
"Not a chance," Lolita shot back, her patience wearing thin. "Three-fifty, take it or leave it."
He frowned, considering her words. "Three dollars. That's my final offer."
"Then I guess you'll have to find your oranges elsewhere," she said, crossing her arms defiantly.
"Fine! Three dollars it is," he grumbled, handing over the cash with a resigned sigh.
As the sun dipped lower, the market began to thin out. The fading light cast an orange hue over everything, echoing the citrus she sold. Lolita's thoughts wandered back to Clara, and the tight grip of worry returned.
Finally, as the last customer left, she packed up her stall, her heart heavy. It had been a long day, and she was ready to head home. With a deep breath, she slung her basket over her shoulder and began the walk back, her mind still preoccupied.
The streets were quieter now, the chatter of the market replaced by the soft rustle of leaves and distant laughter. As she turned down a less-traveled alley, she heard raised voices coming from a darkened corner. Curiosity piqued, she slowed her steps, straining to hear.
"Get off him!" a boy shouted, his voice strained and desperate.
"Shut up!" a man barked back. "You think you can just steal from us?"
A chill ran down Lolita's spine. She took a step back, ready to turn and flee when a second voice rang out. "You're not going to get away with this!"
Her heart raced. The boy's defiance was commendable, but it felt like a death sentence in that moment. She turned to leave, but just as she did, one of the men caught sight of her.
"Hey! You! Get back here!" he yelled, his voice booming in the narrow space.
Lolita's instincts kicked in, and she sprinted down the alley, her feet pounding against the cobblestones. She could hear the men's footsteps behind her, growing louder as they chased her.
"Don't let her get away!" one of them shouted, and panic surged through her veins. She glanced back, her heart pounding in her chest, and saw the men gaining on her. They were larger, stronger; she couldn't let them catch her.
She veered into a narrow side street, hoping to lose them in the maze of alleyways. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and she could hear her heart racing in her ears. Every instinct screamed at her to keep moving.
"Stop!" one of the men yelled, but she pushed herself harder, ignoring the pain in her legs.
Lolita ducked into another alley, her eyes darting around for an escape route. A wooden fence loomed ahead, and without thinking, she leaped, her hands grasping the top to pull herself over. She landed awkwardly on the other side, stumbling but regaining her footing just in time to hear their footsteps behind her.
"Where did she go?" one of them shouted, frustration evident in his voice.
She pressed herself against the wall, trying to catch her breath and steady her racing heart. The alley was dim, the fading light barely illuminating her surroundings. She could hear them searching, their voices muffled as they moved further away.
"Split up! She can't have gone far!" one of the men commanded.
Lolita felt a surge of desperation. She needed to find a way home, away from these men and their threats. Slowly, she crept along the shadows, trying to stay hidden. Just a few more steps, and she would be out of this nightmare.
Suddenly, she spotted a narrow opening between two buildings. It was tight, but it led to the street beyond. With no time to waste, she squeezed through, her heart pounding in her chest.
As she emerged on the other side, she glanced back, half-expecting to see the men following. But the alley was silent, and the danger seemed to have passed.
Breathing heavily, she hurried down the street, her mind racing. What had just happened? Why had she gotten involved? But there was no time for questions; she had to get home, to safety, and to her siblings.
With the weight of fear still lingering in her chest, she quickened her pace, determined to put the alley and the encounter behind her, After all Matteo would be back she needed to get to him early before he gets worried and come out to look for her, the last time he went out to look for her he eventually went missing because that day she had followed another road to get something while he was going straight to the stall.. it took ours till she ended up seeing Matteo.