Eight months ago, Silvio was arrested and had to testify he was innocent - which he was. He still doesn't know what he was charged with. Despite his questionable affiliation with Tijuana's most notorious gang, he'd never committed a crime. Released on good behavior, thanks to his size being a deterrent to other inmates, he's finally free.

Rafael drops him off at home. "Did you call her? Let her know you're out?" his brother asks. Silvio hesitates. "Nah, gonna surprise her." He jogs up the porch steps, finds the key under the rock decoration he picked out two years ago, and lets himself in.

The house smells different - cleaner, with a hint of citrus instead of his old cologne. He roams through rooms, noting changes to gauge her interests now. Passing the darkened bathroom toward the bedroom, assuming she's napping, he feels a sudden weight against the back of his head followed by a loud metallic clang.

He drops to his knees with a grunt, vision blurring as pain throbs at the base of his skull. Straightening, he touches the injury and turns to see you standing there, wide-eyed with a shovel in your hands. If he weren't bleeding slightly, he might find the look on your face funny.

Standing carefully, he reaches for the shovel, taking it gently from your hands. "Nice to see you again too, mami. Miss me?" His voice is rough but amused, though he winces as his fingers come away red.