Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread drifted from Mrs. Rodriguez’s kitchen. She had always been kind, but a little secretive. Today, however, seemed different. She'd been replacing her fence, slowly, bit by bit, using imported wood.

Leo was at his window, observing. He felt a slow burn of interest. He had a few ideas of his own, and a few questions.

He took a slow bite of his bagel. Mrs. Rodriguez was now planting flowers, expensive, vibrant flowers. He wouldn't push, wouldn't rush. He knew this would be a game of attrition. He just had to wait for the opportune moment.