Marcos wasn’t judging or threatening me; he was just telling the truth as someone who’d already lived it.
“And before you think it,” he added, leaning forward, “no… putting your life, your time, or your safety on the line for him doesn’t make you a bad sister; it makes you someone who’s doing what the world forced you to do.That’sthe game.”
He sat back again, eyes locked onto mine with steady pressure. “So, what is it gonna be? No pressure, but Idoneed an answer before you leave.”
I bit my lip. “If I say no, you’re not going to have me killed as soon as I walk out of here for knowing what I know?”
Marcos let out a low, sinister, amused,anddisrespectfully calm chuckle. “Whatdoyou know? That you’ll be transporting goods? For all you know, you could be transporting toys, electronics… clothes. I never told youwhat.”
The unknown was exactly what bothered me.
I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer.
God… guide me with my quick decision making.
When I opened them again, I looked straight at him. “Time’s not on my side. So if this is real, I’m in.”
And just like that… my life changed.
Marcos studied my face for a second after I gave him my answer, then he nodded slowly, like he’d expected it all along. “Good choice.”
I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse.
He slid the tablet back toward himself and tapped the screen a few times. “Alright,nowwe make it official.”
He then reached into a drawer and pulled out a thin stack of papers.
My stomach fluttered again. “What exactly am I signing?” I asked carefully.
“Confidentiality agreements, liability waivers, and a non-disclosure agreement.”
Contracts… of course.
He slid the first page toward me and handed me a pen. “Basically, you’re agreeing that anything you see, hear, or do while working with us stays between us.”
“Or?” I boldly challenged.
“Or things get complicated.”
That answer didn’t exactly calm my nerves. Still, I picked up the pen. If I was already stepping into the unknown, there was no point half-stepping now.
Page after page slid across the desk.
Sign here… initial there.
At one point, he rolled out a small electronic fingerprint scanner. “Finger here.”
I hesitated. “This is starting to feelrealofficial.”
“It is.”
I placed my finger on the glass, and the machine beeped.
Marcos saved the file and leaned back slightly. “Congratulations… youofficiallywork for us.”
He stood up and walked over to a small cabinet against the wall. When he opened it, I heard the unmistakable sound of rubber bands snapping.
My eyebrows lifted in curiosity.