Sigourney parted the curtains once more. That man had been sitting in the same spot for an hour. Each time she looked at him, he was watching her.
Perhaps I should call the police… She wondered, only to talk herself out of it.
“Excuse me,” Sigourney called to him. “Is there something that you want from me?”
“My name is Tasha Rominov,” he started, moving closer. “I – our fathers knew each other during the war. They were enemies and unexpected friends.”
“What does this have to do with me?” She asked, uneasily tapping on the window pane.
“My father is dead, now; everyone is…gone. They had kept in contact all these years, and I’m sorry, but this is the address listed.”
Sigourney breathed slightly. “Listen, Tasha: my father has also passed on, if that’s what you wanted to find out, and I’m not in the habit of taking in strangers.”
“Why trust a red?” He laughed painfully. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have wasted my time with a Cold War kid.” Tasha grabbed his bag and began to walk away.
“Wait!” She said.