It was the middle of the night, and a storm was rolling in. Raindrops began streaming down the bedroom window, lightning flashing every few seconds, and the sound of thunder rolled in the distance. The room was dark. The only light shining was from a street light and the occasional flash of lightning. Citlali, still in the day’s clothes, dirty, was lying on top of her bed in the fetal position. She blankly stared out the window, weary. Her boyfriend, Demetrius, kneeled on the floor facing her and stroked her hair; he was worried about her. 

“I’m tired.” she said with no distinguishable emotion. 

Demetrius kissed her on the forehead. “I know. What can I do to help?”

Citlali’s eyes shifted. “Call the cops.”

That was not the response he was expecting or hoping for. “No,” he said in earnest, getting up from beside her, his shadow now looming over her petite frame. 

“Call the cops.” She didn’t even bother looking at Demetrius this time, her words punching his stomach. 

“No. I’m not doing that.”

Citlali rolled over on her back, and Demetrius sat down on the bed facing her. Physically frustrated, she sat up, putting her face to face with him. Tears began to fall down her face, but she tried to remain even tempered.

“Deme, I’m serious,” she began. “I’m tired, and I need this to end.” She leaned forward, placed her forehead against his and closed her eyes. “Do you understand me? I need this to end.”

Demetrius stood up again, now clearly distressed, running his hands through his hair, trying to keep his composure but failing. 

“I promised you I would never call the cops. Lali, I know you’re tired, but I can’t turn you in. I can’t. I won’t.”

Bringing herself up to her knees on the bed, Citlali reached out her hands. Taking her hands in his, Demetrius’s green eyes welled up with tears, turning them into pools of deep teal. The silence between them felt like a vacuum. The lightning flashed across Citlali’s face, her eyes fixed on his, but overflowing with incredible pain. She steadied her breathing.

“I need this life to end, Deme. If you don’t turn me in, I’ll be forced to run.”

His eyes widened.

“Then I’ll run with you!”

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Dem.”

“Yes, I do!” he exclaimed, letting go of her hands, becoming angry. “I know exactly what I’m saying.”

Hearing the desperation in Demetrius’s voice cut her to the core, but she needed to be resolute with him. She drew in another cleansing breath. “No, Deme, you don’t. Have you ever had to run away from your life? Have you ever had to change your appearance? Change your job, hobbies, friends?”

She paused, searching Demetrius’s face for some sort of confirmation before she continued.

“Have you ever had to abandon your family?” Another pause, her eyes coloring with distant longing.

“No, you haven’t. You only have two options, Dem. Turn me in or let me run.”

“NO!” Demetrius roared. The word came from so deep within that he began to shake from the force of it. 

“You don’t get to tell me what my options are. I am in this as much as you are, Lali. I’m in this deep, and not just because of the murders.” He paused now, searching for the same confirmation Citlali searched for in his eyes. “I’m in this with you because…” he lowered his eyes and his voice. “Because of you, Lali.”

Demetrius walked over to the window, looking out toward the sleeping street. The thunder rolled on, matching the stirring in his gut. Citlali slumped to a seated position on the mattress. “Deme,” she started but was softly interrupted.

“I love you, and I can’t let you leave me. I can’t turn you in, and I can’t let you leave me.”

The words spilled over her and made her dizzy. Citlali got off of the bed and walked over to him. They embraced tightly, the seconds passing like a dream. As Citlali loosened her embrace, she remembered the dried blood on her fingers. She pushed away, contemplatively looking at her hands. She held them up for Demetrius to see.

“Deme, please,” she breathed. “I’m begging you to call them, or I’ll have to…”

“What? Kill me?” he smiled smugly. “I’ll take my chances.”

Citlali groaned and buried her face into Demetrius’s chest. His chest rose and fell with a slight chuckle. Demetrius pulled her away and softly kissed her. Sighing, she resigned and allowed her body to relax. 

“Come on,” Demetris said. “You’re filthy. You need a bath, then some sleep. We’ll go out for breakfast tomorrow.”

“Cindy’s?” Citlali whimpered, now reverting to babygirl mode. 

“But of course!” Demetrius reassured, taking her by the hand and leading her to the bathroom. 

“Best crispy edged pancakes in the neighborhood.”