I wouldn't say the day was exactly normal. I could smell and taste the raindrops that were dropping casually to the ground. That was the first sign that the day was going to be different; It hardly ever rains in Arizona. The café, Blossom, wasn't as busy as it usually was, which was odd for a Friday evening, and the small town of Redwood was quiet. My gut feeling was that something was going to happen within an instant, I just wasn't sure when or why.

I released a long sigh of boredom before deciding to make myself a coffee. Working the evening shift wasn't usually ideal, but my boss never wanted me for the morning shifts.

I made my way out of the dishwasher area and to the bar. I made my espresso shots and steamed milk before delicately making an intricate design in the cup. After topping it with cocoa powder I finally took a sip. I could feel my muscles relaxing and I leaned back onto the counter behind me. There were only a couple of customers, and they were most likely college students. They had their laptops out and notebooks, taking notes and quietly chatting with one another.

I took another sip of the latte before setting it behind me on the countertop. Impulsively I began cleaning the bar and wiping behind the machines that were only cleaned when it got this slow. As I was rinsing out my rag, I glance up as the door opens and in walks a couple men. One with a black jacket and black hair, the other with a gray sweatshirt and dark brown hair. They were both Mexican by the looks of it. I drop the rag into the water and wipe my hands on my apron.

"Hi, what can I get you?" I ask, tilting my head to the side. They chatted quietly in Spanish, and I only caught "un café" and "por favor". It felt like the two years of Spanish I took in high school did me no good in conversation. The black jacket guy ordered for the both of them and paid. They opted for a seat in the corner where you would have a view of everything.

Redwood was a pretty sleepy town, and we didn't get many people who weren't from around the area. So, of course, it was odd to see these two in the shop. I couldn't help but glance up at them every once in a while as I was making two americanos. Today was definitely a weird day. I dropped the shots in the hot water and placed a lid on top. I dodged tables and placed their coffees on the table.

"Have a good day," I say smiling. They both nod and the gray sweatshirt guy says thank you. I give them a nod back before turning and going back to the bar. They definitely were not the type of people to mess around with. I don't know if it's just me, but have you ever noticed that people who don't care about literally anything will just give you the head nod? Maybe it's just me.

I grin to myself and shake my head slightly. I took another gulp of the latte and closed my eyes for a few moments. It was kind of exhausting to work an evening shift by yourself. My coworker Braiden called out sick and no one could work for him. So typical. I would much prefer an office job where I don't have to talk to many people and only worry about what kind of work needs to be done. I've tried quite a few times to try and get a job for some accountants, but no one wants to hire me.

I'm 28 years old and still can't get out of the food industry. It is kind of ridiculous.

I happen to glance up at the same time the door opens. I sigh. Just another day.

As the day comes to a close, the same two men are sitting at the very corner table. I don't catch any of what they're saying but I'm getting nervous. I hate telling people that I'm closing the shop. Well, I hate social interaction period.

When I finally pluck the courage to decide I should approach them, they stand and make their way to the door. "Thank you" they both call out in their heavily accented voices. "Of course, have a good evening," I reply grinning. The guy in the gray sweatshirt gives me a small smile and they leave. I let out a breath of air I didn't know I was holding, and my shoulders dropped. Thank goodness I didn't have to even talk to them.

It doesn't take me long to close and lock up the doors before I'm beelining it to my car. I swore I caught a glimpse of something in the dark, but it's probably nothing. I lock my doors once I'm in and relax against the seat. I start my car and before I know it, I'm home and lying on my bed with the lights out. I scrolled through a book on my phone until my eyes got heavy. I plug my phone in and close my eyes. I fall asleep rather quickly from the exhausting day.

I awoke with a sudden feeling of falling. My eyes open instantly and groggily I check the time on my alarm clock. Why was it only 3 a.m.? I groan and roll onto my other side. My eyes adjust to the dark room pretty quickly. I sigh as I can't seem to feel sleepy again. I swing my legs and place my feet on the floor. I unsteadily stand and kind of stumble a bit. When I finally straighten up, I walk out to the kitchen of my apartment and pour a glass of milk. I heat it up in the microwave and grab a couple of cookies from the cupboard. I sit down on the couch with the goods and silently stare into the dimly lit room. I grab the book off of the coffee table and start to read.

There's a sudden noise behind me that causes me to jump. I turn on the couch to face the window. I hear something again. I peek through the curtains through a tiny slit trying to see what was out there. Having a ground floor apartment sometimes had me jumping at shadows, but this sounded like a person.

There is indeed a person, and I resist the urge to scream. There's a woman crouched in the bushes that are adjacent to the ones beneath my windows. Probably about 15 feet away. I shudder and look away. Who the hell is crouching in the bushes at 3 a.m.?

I hear someone cry out in the distance, and the woman springs up and starts sprinting away. I squint my eyes and watch someone run by the window, presumably a man. Who had a freaking gun?! Nope. I drop the book onto the table and sprint for my bedroom, just as I hear a knock on the door. I've seen enough horror movies to know it would not be a good idea to answer it. I snatch my phone and dial 911. I've never done this before that's for sure.

The operator is asking me too many questions, but I try my best to answer them as the knocking persists. I hear some hushed whispers and next thing I know, the door is kicked open with force. I force the scream down my throat and hide by the side of my bed. I end the call with the operator and flick my sound off, flipping the phone screen side down. I hold my breath as the people step around in the living room and kitchen.

It doesn't take them long to make their way towards where my bedroom is. I shiver and look into the eyes of.... Is that the gray sweatshirt dude? He heaves a sigh of... relief? He lowers his gun that he had pointed at me, as his partner does the same. "Respectfully, what the f?" I ask, my voice shaking slightly.

Black jacket holsters his pistol. "Sorry for the intrusion senorita. Did you see anyone come through this area? We saw your lamp on out there," he said casually. As if this was a normal day for him. I shake my head vehemently. "No. Not in my house because it was LOCKED!" I shout. Sweatshirt holds out a hand I take it, standing up quickly. He let goes and steps back. "But you did see someone, no?" he asked.

"Yes. They went towards the left side."

A string of curses in Spanish escapes from black jacket. I'm just now noticing that they also had bulletproof vests, which feels suspicious. Black jacket dashes off after saying some things in Spanish to the other guy. After he's gone, this other guy sighs. He holsters his gun and says some Spanish into his radio.

"Are you going to just stand there?" I ask warily. He laughs lightly, crossing his arms across his chest. "Yes." He hesitates for a second. "Alejandro says to give you compensation?" I nod in understanding. He clearly knew English and spoke it well but seemed to lack confidence in himself. "Alejandro is your buddy that was with you right?" I ask, wanting clarification. He nods his head and replies, "Yes. My name is Rodolfo. We're Mexican Special Forces. We're trying to find someone. That person you saw has information we need."

My eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "Why are you on American soil then? Don't you guys have jurisdiction only in Mexico?" He looks confused. "Jurisction?"

"Sorry. Jurisdiction means you only have certain places you're allowed to be," I define. Rodolfo seems to have a lightbulb moment. "Ah, I see. We were given access to this area. This person is wanted in many places," he replies.

There's a part of my brain that wants to know a lot more, but logically I knew they couldn't tell me much of anything. But my curiosity peeked, and those crime podcasts I listened to often made me want to keep asking questions. Despite the fact they had knocked down my door just to find someone, I knew that Rodolfo was worthy of my trust.

"If you follow me, I can bring you to the station," he suddenly says. "You can give us what you know and we will help pay you for the door." He gestures towards the object that was slightly hanging off the hinges. I sigh and rub my eyes. There was no way I was going to be able to sleep anyway. The cool breeze had goosebumps running up and down my arms. The t-shirt and pajama pants were doing nothing to stop the cold.

I snatch a hoodie off of a hangar from my closet and pull it over my head. I slip on some socks and shoes and follow the stranger towards a blacked-out vehicle. I could feel the mud squishing under my shoes and I grimaced. Now normally I would never do this, but he was clearly part of some police force. Plus, I was curious.