the world. Readers lived for the words on paper that transported them from the mundane of everyday life, and writers lived to give them the drug they craved: a way of escape. It was evident this story of Tad’s was something close to his heart. The thought of that caused a surge of empathy to go through Page. No matter how many stories she heard, she was stirred by compassion. She knew journalists who had become hardened to the plight of the people in the mountain regions, but her love for the people who lived in the isolated areas ensured she never became callous to their predicament. She could care less about nickels, noses, and numbers, she wanted her readers to feel the same compassion for these beautiful people that she did. Though she was making a hell of a living on her writing, it wasn’t about the money for her. Perhaps that was the reason her writing resonated with her readers. She knew readers were smart, they didn’t just read books, they also read the authors who wrote them. She cared about her readers as much as she did the stories she wrote. She couldn’t imagine doing any other kind of work. Writing had found her when she felt like the voices in her head were making her crazy, and words had been there for her when nothing else existed in her empty life. She was lonely until the words became her friend and the stories her lifeline. Writing had opened-up a beautiful world she inhabited with eagerness as the sun rose with each new day of promise. She was excited about living—excited about meeting Tadias and writing his story.
“Where did you go, girl?” Judy snapped her fingers to get Page’s attention. She knew her friend was in her own head, probably feeling sorry for the man who had messaged her. “I’m going with you. There’s no way I’m letting you meet a man who blames you for the death of Juan. It could be one of his family members bent on revenge. Speaking of enemies, I’m surprised your one-night stand hasn’t called you.”
“Maybe it was just that: a one-night stand.” Page didn’t like the emptiness she felt in her chest at the thought of Mano being no more than a ship that had passed through a night of her life. She’d felt a connection with him that she’d never felt with another man. Her sexual experience was limited. Mano had touched something within her that she never knew existed. She wondered if it had been the same for him.
“As long as the guy doesn’t break your heart…I’m cool with him. If he hurts you, he’s on my shit list. I can tell you like him, Page. He does have a magnetic way about him that pulls you in. I think he likes you too if it’s any consolation.”
“What is this high school?” Page rolled her eyes. An attempt to take the edge off of the seriousness of their conversation. “You’re a good friend, Judy.” Page reached over and hugged her best friend.
“I’m your best friend now let’s get going. I don’t want to miss this meeting. I’m dying to hear Tad’s story.”
“I have to admit, I’m curious too,” Page said, grabbing her jacket and walking towards the door.
“We need a dog, Page. A fur baby to watch over the place when we’re gone. We could share custody.” Judy laughed at the thought, but she was serious about rescuing a dog from the local shelter. There were so many who needed good homes. Maybe they could get two, so they didn’t get lonely when their people's parents were gone.
Reading her friend’s mind, Page spoke: “Fuck it. Let’s get two, so they don’t get lonely. We work a lot.”
Judy looked at Page with expectancy.
Page locked the door, and both girls got into the SUV. Page had bought it because she needed room to pack the boxes full of filed research she kept—an old school habit of hers. It also gave her room for luggage when she traveled—above all, it was a reliable vehicle. No girl who worked closely with the Colombian cartel wanted to be stranded on the side of the highway. A woman who wrote things that could possibly piss them off sure didn’t.
“We have plenty of room for a big dog here. Maybe it’s a good idea. Two dogs would be company for each other. We’ll have to wait until we go out of the country together. When