“Did she say ‘Ronald’?”

“Yes.”

“Who is she?”

“I don’t know. She approached me on the street as I left the gym. I’ve never seen her before.”

“Why trust her?”

“Good question. Something tells me we can,” the taller said. “I can’t forget her face. It seemed life or death. She will contact me in a couple of days. Do we accept her help?”

“How did she know Ronald wanted to write the book?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m sure Ronald told her!”

“I don’t think so. He knew it was dangerous. His last words were that he had discovered something horrible and was being followed. He made me swear that if he died, we had to write it down.”

The shorter’s eyes widened. He put his hands on his head.

“Horrible? Did he use that word?”

“Yes.”

“What are we facing, Manuel?” the shorter asked, pressing his lips.

“Don’t call me Manuel anymore!” the taller shouted. “The other condition is that we can’t use our real names. From now on, call me Ricardo,” he said. So, we are calling him Ricardo.

“Calm down! Why another name?”

“The job is dangerous. They could record us with directional microphones or listen to our phones,” Ricardo said.

“Okay… I understand. Then don’t call me Diego. Call me Arturo,” the shorter said. So, from now on, we are calling him Arturo. “It’s so unfortunate he died,” he added. “How I admired that young man! Did Ronald tell you he discovered something horrible?”

“Yes,” Ricardo answered, watching Arturo pace, sinking his shoes into the carpet.

“Look! If someone knows we want to write Ronald’s book, they already know! Are we going to be scared? No! Maybe she is a trap, maybe not! We don’t know! If she helps, we set the conditions! Who do they think they are!” Arturo roared.