After the misunderstanding had been thoroughly dispelled—along with my dignity, my sense of safety, and any remaining optimism about Atlantic City being a welcoming place—the three of us started making our way back to rejoin both Rico's group and my own group. The reunion couldn't come soon enough.
Maribel knew the route to what she described as a "safe building"—apparently some kind of memorial structure that had been converted into a fortified fallback position. She navigated the darkened streets with the confidence of someone who'd traveled these paths dozens of times, her movements quick despite carrying Shannon piggyback-style.
But peaceful silence wasn't in the cards for this journey. The space beside me erupted with noise as the two women launched into what was clearly a long-running argument that my presence had merely interrupted rather than prevented.
