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Was I being attacked right now?
Suddenly, Miguel turned and lifted his fingers. He was signing again, but this time, instead of quick gestures, he just formed a letter.
“I know that one,” I said in a voice that was a tad too excited.
He smiled a little, his bushy moustache flopping.
“Alright.” I watched him closely and spelled it out loud. “D-A-N-G-E-R.”
He nodded.
“Danger?” I stared in confusion. “I’m in danger? Me?” I poked a finger in my chest. “From what?”
Someone knocked on the door.
My heart jolted as I imagined a woman or little girl outside dying to relieve her bladder.
I stepped forward.
Miguel slid in front of me.
“I’m opening the door,” I hissed.
Brown eyes darkened. He shook his head.
“Miguel, this is a public bathroom. You can’t just—”
He dove toward me and slapped his hand over my mouth.
Panic kicked in.
I bucked and flailed, struggling to get him off me.
What the heck?
“Angel?”
Peter’s voice.
Miguel pointed to the door, his eyes intent.
I shook his hand off and whispered, “That’s Peter. He’s a friend.”
The doorknob rattled.
“Angel, who are you talking to?”
Miguel’s head whipped around. He seemed to be searching for something. His gaze caught on the window and he darted over, jumping high as if he intended to open it.
“We’re on the third floor. That’s not gonna work.” I had no idea why I was offering suggestions when none of this made any sense.
Miguel raked a hand through his hair.
“Angel!” The door rattled.
Peter was trying to ram it open.
That wasn’t normal either, right? Why were so many men desperate to use the ladies’ bathroom today? The male one was right across the hall.
