She hid in the cellar in her backyard, the same one in which hours before she had wanted to hide Joseph Storni and she burst into tears when the place gave her silence and solitude.

She sat on a pile of dry wood and sobbed hard, longing to control herself before leaving her hiding place, the one that in recent months had become the refuge of her pain, the home of her broken heart and identity.

When had she let this happen? She wondered, as she hit her knees.

If she remembered correctly, it was just after the Christmas holidays, when she had preferred to travel with her grandmother to Argentina and put off their relationship for a couple of weeks.

Esteban had not taken it at all well and the violence that had aroused in him were the result of his jealousy and lack of confidence in her. From there, it had all been an accelerated spiral of mistakes that she had overlooked, making useless excuses for such horrible acts.

As always, she touched her cheek and checked that there was no blood on her hands, but she stirred nervously when she discovered her split lip, shattered by the power of the blow Esteban had given her.

The box Joseph Storni had brought her, in addition to the girl's strange attitudes, had rekindled the man's mistrust, and the result of that was a beating from which Lexy was unable to escape.

At least that was what she felt, she felt useless to escape his aggressions and she felt like a prisoner of his screams, of his wrinkled scowls and of his offensive sentences before his mistakes.

On the outskirts of the Bouvier family property, Joseph Storni continued to monitor the entrance to the house and any movement taking place there.

Ten o'clock at night came in a hurry and he had to leave when the lights went out in front of him, and he was disappointed in himself when he understood what he had done.

Or rather, what he had not done.

He had allowed a man to hit a woman in front of him, which he hated since his mother had married a second time and his new stepfather tortured her on weekends, when he got drunk with his friends and took her with his frail mother.

He started his vehicle and drove off, driving at high speed on the road that connected the areas of the city. He used the music on the radio to relax a little and his throat itched to get a good wine to help him turn off those dark memories that were repeated between his childhood and adolescence.

He arrived at his new property located in Las Colinas of the city and locked himself in his room, ignoring the presence of his younger sister and his youthful friends, those who met every Friday to catch up on gossip.

He fell asleep without knowing how or at what time and woke up grumpy, dressed and with a lot of back pain.

He took advantage of his day off to cook — or at least try — and to run through the deserted streets of the private area where he had lived for a few months.

He endured all day without thinking about Lexy, and although he knew that the more, he demanded not to think about her and her problems, he thought about it anyway when it was forbidden to remember her.

At six o'clock in the afternoon on Saturday he was overcome by the impotence that he continued to feel for what he had lived the previous day and tired of his cowardice, he dared to send him an email.

Miss Bouvier,

I was writing to know his progress by reading and studying our Risk Policy.

If you have any questions, I am available to answer your questions.

Sincerely,

Joseph Storni.

It took almost two hours for the girl to respond, and although Joseph was more pleased than ever when he heard the notification from his mobile phone, he burned with rage when the young woman responded with two miserable and poor sentences that disturbed him.

Mister Storni,

Everything is fine.

Thank you.

He tried to dine in front of the television and pass the disgusting sandwiches that he himself had prepared during the morning, but a television report focused on animal abuse made him explode and search his work bag, focused on one thing.

He reviewed all the applicants' documentation he had received the day of the interview, until he managed to find Lexy Bouvier's letter and documents and, as daring as ever, he called her on her private phone.

He was eager to hear her voice.

“Yes?” She asked, a little lost.

"Miss Bouvier, this is Joseph Storni speaking." “How is it going?” He breathed out all the air with the phrase and remained silent while Lexy answered him.

"I'm doing fine, I guess ... thanks," she hesitated, and there was a strange movement along the line.

“I sent you an email to see your progress with our policy, is everything okay?” he asked.

"I already answered, Mr. Storni," she answered decisively, and the phone line was flooded with the sound of the wind, where Joseph anticipated that the young woman had come out to speak to him.

"Sorry, Miss Bouvier, sometimes the emails bounce, I haven't received anything," he lied, touching his neck nervously.

"Well, it doesn't matter," she muttered, confused. “Everything is fine, sir, I'm almost done with the manual. I marked some pages to read again and not forget the most important clauses.” She indicated.

"Very applied," he replied, smiling.

But his joy was diminished by the continuation of the girl:

"Sorry, Mr. Storni, I have to go now, I'm at my boyfriend's house and I went out for a little while to answer his call." She flailed across the line and Joseph growled in anger at her stupidity.

"Don't worry, we'll see you on Monday." “Take care, please,” he answered and begged, and the call ended. “Stupid girl,” he said, squeezing the phone in his hands.

"Girl yes, never stupid," his younger sister interrupted and walked like a funny ape in front of him.

Joseph rolled his eyes and sat down again in front of the television, picked up the plate with food in his hands and returned to his boring routine.

His sister sat across from him and watched the television in silence, calm and quiet as always.

The eighteen-year-old girl was his only living relative, whom he cared for since his father had disappeared.

The young woman was respectful and valued the good life her brother offered her, sometimes she tried to help him and was the only one who managed to get him out of his ugly routine.

"We know I'm not stupid," she muttered without taking her eyes off the television. “If we weren't talking about me, then who?” She asked playfully, and she had a strong interest in the private and loving life of her brother, the one who never spoke of anything.

"Nobody cares," he replied without looking at her and continued chewing his unsavory food without taking his eyes off the television.

“As it is called?” She insisted happily. “Is she tall, short, blonde, or brunette?” She continued and shifted restlessly on the sofa. Joseph denied without looking at her and focused on his empty plate. “She is pretty?” She annoyed and Joseph looked at her curiously. “She is pretty!” The girl screamed, and her brother rolled his eyes again. “Tell me what it's called!”

"You're crazy, she's nobody, she doesn't have a name and she's not pretty!" He lied and got up from the sofa to disappear into the kitchen.

Even though Lexy was not at all like the girls he used to hang out with for fun, she had something special that even he could not explain. It was a mix between her clumsiness and her smile, something that went beyond her body and small stature, a bit of mystery, maybe, and the odd spark of innocence. There were many things and they all led to the same sensation: heat.

He tried to find a beer that would calm the heat he was feeling, because if he thought about Lexy and her tight skirt got hot as if it was nothing, it was the most foolish thing he had ever experienced and he still thought that it was a fun dream of his conscience, one he couldn't wake up from.

He found an ice-cold beer and next to it appeared the hateful of his sister, who continued with her funny jokes.

“Lexy Bouvier, twenty-two, sin-gle...”

“Where did you get that!?” He yelled angrily and was alarmed to see that his sister had Lexy's personal and work information in her hands.

"Lexy rhymes with sexy," she scoffed and continued, "I thought worker relations were forbidden...”

She touched her chin with her index finger and simulated questioning expressions.

"And they are!" He refuted, snatching away Bouvier's documents. “Don't confuse things!”

"Don't confuse things!" She replied and ran away when Joseph turned to face her.

The girl, agile for her age, ran up the stairs and disappeared into the darkness of the house. Joseph snorted and disarmed himself on the living room sofa, mobile phone in his hands, screen on and viewing Lexy Bouvier's email.

He read her answer many times, trying to discover something else, when between the lines, the girl and her coldness cried out for help.