Their breathing was loud in the pregnant silence after Adam slid his thumb on the screen to accept the incoming call. He was eager to find out if his old friend truly was on the other side of the phone, but he refused to make the first move. Why her? He wondered. What's her relationship with Lili? Is she her client? Her friend?

"Where is he?" she asked as a way of greeting. He could almost hear the frown in her voice. Okay, so not friends, or at least not in good terms. But what did this mean for him? "Tell me!"

It sounded like her. But could he be sure? They hadn't spoken in forever.

"Fine. Don't want to talk?" she continued. "Then, this is over."

"Hello?" He had to clear his throat before he could speak. "Hi."

This time it was her who remained silent for a while. "Who's this?"

"Hey, Vera."

"Adam?" A long pause. "Oh, no!" She clicked her tongue and mumbled a series of fucks, shits, and this-can't-be-happening. "This was a mistake."

"No, no, no." He rushed to stop her as soon as he suspected she would hang up. "Wait!"

Transfixed, he searched for the right words. And there, under the ever-vigilant red eyes of the white rabbit, he headed towards the balcony only because he wasn't sure what to do next. He put his fingers between the slats of the shutters over the glass door and took a peek outside. Instead of the beautiful Ávila mountain he'd seen last night from the bay window at his old apartment, he found countless little amorphous shacks covering the nameless hills that surrounded the city like tumorous lesions. Their stained zinc rooftops and uneven brick walls stretching as far as the edge of the horizon. Overpopulated and traversed by sinuous, narrow roads that often led nowhere, the anarchic architecture of these squatter areas, their impossible corners and sharp edges, and their Penrose stairs had always made Adam think of the famous lithograph called Relativity by the Dutch artist M. C. Escher. At least it did when he was still in college. Now it reminded him more of a slow landslide that had almost buried all Caracas. Or a growing parasite that could kill its host at any moment.

He snapped the slats shut and backed away. How long had they been quiet? A minute? An hour? Why had neither of them uttered another word? Adam wasn't sure.

"Bye," she said, breaking the silence.

"Please, I... I..." Tears welled up behind his eyes. Looking for what to say, he'd found something unexpected—sadness. What's wrong with me? Loneliness had never felt as heavy as it did now. Once he heard a familiar voice, he realized how much all these years of seclusion had weighed on him. "I've been trying to contact you."

"Me? I have tried to find you for months! But she wouldn't tell me where you were."

"Who? Lili?"

"Who's Lili?"

A fog of doubts and uncertainty clouded his thoughts.

"Who were you calling?"

"It is too late, Adam. If you are there..." It seemed she was struggling to prevent her emotions from taking over. "Time's up for you, for me. Every one of us... fucked!"

"Why?"

"I am not telling you shit. They got to you."

"Vera, it's me. I know we haven't been in touch, but I'm still me."

She let out a mirthless laugh. "Sure about that?"

"This makes no sense."

"Bye, Adam."

"Please!" He waited, unsure if she had already hung up. A glance at the phone screen confirmed the call timer hadn't stopped. "I need to see you or anyone from the Mission. I-I am... on the highway to the asylum." Once more, he gave her a few seconds to reply, but, as it became clear, she would say nothing more, he decided to risk it and tell her the truth. "I've been seeing things." He admitted with a shudder. "Stuff that shouldn't exist. Not on earth."

He fell silent again, listening.

"What things?" she asked, the cautiousness in her voice now replaced with urgency.

"You cunt!"

Lili was standing where the rabbit had been a second ago, her skin glistening here and there with droplets of water, her hair still wet. She wore nothing besides a G-string and a red bra.

"I'm sorry the phone rang and—"

"Get out!"

"Parque Central. East Tower, sixty-two." Vera rushed to say before hanging up.

"Hello?" He frowned at the screen. "Dammit."

The same plate Lili had put on the table minutes ago, arepa and all, flew across the living room and smashed against the wall next to Adam. A few inches to the left, and it would have gotten him straight in the head.

"Are you insane?" He asked her as she grabbed a coffee mug and shattered it on the floor.

"Why?" She screamed, bursting into tears. "Why are you not like me?"

"What's your problem? It rang, and I knew the—"

"Liar!" She moved to the kitchen sink, took the frying pan she'd used to warm up the arepas, and smacked it against a chair four times as if she were wielding an ax. "Don't wanna be here? Then leave!"

Adam didn't dare to move an inch. Would she attack him with a knife from the drawer? Throw another plate at him? She did none of that. After a while, she wiped off her tears and, as if succumbing to tiredness, sat on the couch where he'd slept two nights ago.

"Here's your phone," he crooned, putting it on the coffee table in front of her once it seemed safe to move. "I'll go now."

She stared at the wall with no change of expression, as if he had said nothing at all. Her indifference pierced him, wounding him more than any insult. And even though she'd sent a pan flying his way, regret weighed upon him for what he'd done. She took care of you, helped you, let you sleep in her bed, and you violated her privacy, he realized as he twisted the doorknob. Maybe she shouldn't talk to you ever again.

But she did.

"Yes?" Adam turned around when she called his name.

"Back at the strip club, you asked me why I'd told you about the hidden camera." Her breathing still ragged a little from crying. "People say trust is a two-way street, what they don't tell you is that whether you go left or right, the destination is always the same: Disappointment City."

"That's not how it is," he hurried the words, but his voice lacked any conviction.

"I'm alone here. They are all gone. Even him." A terrible sadness overcame her features. "Have I mentioned you remind me of him?"

He nodded, unable to speak.

"I once told him I loved dancing, and he laughed at me. He laughed! Can you believe it? I opened my soul to him, and he warped it all into a punch line." She made her voice deep and manly. "'Dancers die of starvation or end up as strippers,' he said."

"God, Lil. I'm sorry."

Her eyes turned cold.

"No, you are not. You were using me." She stood up from the couch. "You don't even know me."

"Come on. That's not true."

"What's my name?"

"Lili."

"My full name."

He held the doorknob tight, feeling light-headed. If he let go, he'd fall and keep falling and falling.

She grinned and walked towards him, extending her hand to shake his. "Hi, I'm Lilith Orozco. Pleased to meet you." Her smile fell away. "I saw you looking for my phone. You thought I wouldn't have given it to you? Or help you find your friends? But you had to do it your way, always doing what you want. You couldn't care less about me."

"I..."

She pushed him to the hallway.

"Just like you didn't care about your sister."

"How...?"

"Goodbye, Mr. Comedian," Lili said, closing the door to her home.