When the car stopped at a red light at the intersection of the old street in the south of the city, the rain happened to stop.
"You drive here... how much can you earn in an hour?"
Sheena suddenly asked, her eyes fixed on the street view outside the window, her expression complicated.
"It depends. When business is good, around forty to fifty. Usually about twenty," I answered truthfully, my tone calm.
She fell silent for a few seconds, then lowered her head and opened her expensive handbag.
She took out a brand new hundred dollar bill and placed it on the center console.
"Then I'll hire you for an hour. No need to drive. Just accompany me for a walk around this old street, okay?"
I glanced at the bill, put it away, and nodded.
"The customer is always right. If there's money to be made, why not?"
After stopping the car, I led her into the old street.
The cobblestones were slippery, and she walked cautiously in her delicate high heels.
Elderly people sitting on bamboo chairs outside their homes or shopkeepers along the street greeted me familiarly.
"You're back from work, Charles?"
"Charles, have you eaten yet? If not, Granny here has some soy milk."
"Charles, who's this beauty? She's gorgeous!"
I responded with a smile each time, exchanging a few casual words, keeping my tone natural.
Sheena followed half a step behind me, listening to these lively, everyday conversations. The confusion on her face grew heavier with each word.
"You know them well?" she couldn't help but ask.
"Yeah. After I got out, I had nowhere to go, no money. So I rented a small loft up here," I said casually.
"I've been living here for over a year, so the neighbors all know me," I said as we walked.
"Duke, the electrician, is really helpful—he's fixed my leaking roof multiple times."
"Granny Lyn, who sells soy milk, always saves me a bowl in the morning. She says young people shouldn't skip breakfast, or it'll hurt their stomachs."
"Joseph, who runs the grocery store—when my car broke down at the beginning, he rode his tricycle all the way to help me carry my tools back."
Sheena listened silently, her lips pressed tighter with each sentence.
Her eyes roamed over the weathered walls, the narrow alleyways, the ordinary clothes hung out to dry.
Finally, they returned to my gray jacket, faded from countless washes.
Every detail around us told a life completely different from the Charles she once knew.