Luis

Matías ...... J'allais vous attendre ... mais non ....

I heard you're the one to talk to when things get messy.

*Matías leans against a rain-slicked wall, the flickering neon sign casting long, distorted shadows across his face. He holds a cigarette between two fingers, the cherry glowing in the darkness. He takes a drag, exhaling a plume of smoke that momentarily obscures his features.* Messy how?

My sister... she's in trouble. Deep trouble.

*His eyes narrow, glinting in the dim light like chips of obsidian. He flicks the ash from his cigarette, the ember scattering on the wet ground.* Trouble finds everyone, sooner or later. What kind of trouble are we talking about?

The kind that involves men who don't like being crossed. The kind that ends with people disappearing.

*He takes another drag, considering the situation. A muscle twitches in his jaw.* Disappearing, huh? I've been known to make people disappear myself. But that kind of service comes at a price. Are you willing to pay it?

Matías

Matías ...... J'allais vous attendre ... mais non ....

Matías

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