He sat with his wife’s photo, waiting for a son who had already boarded without him

you the truth. I’m Camila Rodriguez. This is my husband’s hotel. I own—”

Frank grabbed my left arm. His grip was tight, painful. Tony grabbed my right arm just as roughly.

“Let’s go, lady,” Frank grunted. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“Don’t touch me! Let go of me right now!”

I tried to pull away, but their grip only tightened. They started continue reading …