The dawn was breaking, casting long shadows across the quiet bedroom where she lay. The girl, stirring from a deep slumber, found her senses immediately heightened. She observed her surroundings with silent appraisal, then carefully, stealthily, pushed open the door and began her descent down the stairs.
A television was humming in the living room below, the news broadcasting the previous night's major headline: the notorious gangster Dante had finally been apprehended. Her attention shifted to a man washing dishes by the sink. Nearby, resting casually on a counter, was a gun. In a swift, decisive movement, she snatched the weapon and aimed it squarely at the man's back.
"Hands up, Nex," she commanded, her voice steady.
Nex, who was indeed washing a plate while wearing an apron, turned slowly, a hint of surprise on his face. "Look, put the gun down. Firing that gun isn't your job; washing the plate is."
Without hesitation, she fired a bullet into the plate in his hand. It shattered into a hundred pieces.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
Nex chuckled lightly, pointing to a photo on the wall. "My picture's right there. See for yourself." She looked to where he indicated and saw a photograph of him surrounded by his entire police team.
"You can trust me," he said.
"Save the jokes for someone else," she retorted, noticing he had lowered his hands again. "Hands back up!"
As she took a step backward to maintain distance, her foot landed on a shard of the broken plate. She stumbled, the gun discharged, and a bullet whizzed inches past Nex's head, embedding itself in the wall behind him.
Nex, visibly shaken, muttered under his breath, "Who taught you how to shoot?"
The scene shifted. Nex was now supervising her as she diligently swept the floor. "Yes, mop it properly. The plates need washing after."
"I wish I had shot you in the head," she grumbled in response.
"Hurry up with the mopping," he urged. "I need to take your statement." He turned to leave. "You mop, I'll be back with my phone."
Once alone, she noticed the sink was empty of dishes. She glanced beside her and saw a stack of plates. she washed them and put them back.
Nex returned moments later. "I've washed your plates, I'm leaving now," she declared.
"Anyway, who washes a plate that's already clean?" he teased.
"Whatever," she snapped. "I'm leaving."
"Statement first," he insisted.
"What a nuisance," she sighed.
They eventually sat opposite each other at a small table.
"Look," Nex began, placing his mobile phone on the table to record. "I'm just going to ask straightforward questions, like how you ended up there, etcetera. Let's start the recording."
To be continued...