Lucia arrives home with Astrid.

The coach hissed to a stop at the end Lucia’s street. As Astrid stepped down onto the side-walk and smelled the night air she slung her bag over her shoulder and smirked. “You know, I’ve talked to Jack plenty. He’s not blind — just thick. You could set yourself on fire in front of him and he’d still be going on about play formations.”

Lucia groaned, though a smile tugged at her lips. “That’s not very reassuring.”

“Sure it is,” Astrid teased. “Means he isn’t a player. He’s not ignoring you — he’s just hopeless at noticing anyone outside the huddle.”

Lucia brightened a little. “So… you’re saying I still have a chance?”

Astrid rolled her eyes dramatically. “You’ve got more than a chance, girl. You just need to quit hiding behind those sensible blouses and let him see you’re not a nun in disguise.”

Lucia shoved her shoulder with a laugh. “Okay, okay, I get it—I shouldn't look like a nun.”

Astrid grinned. “Well... I do have a nun costume I could lend you."

Lucia gasped, "Astrid!"

"What? Worked for me and we're not that dissimilar in height a good set of heels couldn't fix."

Lucia tried to act cool, but her grin gave her away, "Maybe... but it never reaches home. My mom would kill me. We're very Catholic."

"You don't say, Miss Rivera. I would never have guessed," Astrid mocked mildly.

"Shhh! We're here. Not a word about that. We're here for my brother remember."

Lucia routed in her pouch for her keys. Astrid shifted her weight and sighed deliberately.

"How old is that? You need to upgrade from that Walmart special, Lucia. My Baggu has pockets for keys, cards, lipstick... well everything a girl needs. Did I mention it's just over six inches long?"

Lucia blew stray strands from her eyes in frustration and looked at her friend.

"This is Wandler. My mom got it me for getting to University."

"Wandler! Where did she get it? You've got to tell me, Lucia. We're friends right?"

A hand emerged with the keys.

"Ha!" Lucia said triumphantly.

"Great, but the bag. Where does your mom get Wandler from?"

Lucia flashed her friend a broad smile.

"From a thrift store. Second hand. You think we're made of money?"

"Which store?" Astrid pressed. "Does she go there often?"

Lucia laughed.

"I doubt there's a second one there, Astrid. Sorry."

Astrid pulled a sad face.

"There's always hope right?"

"Rarely in any thrift stores round here," Lucia said as if to herself.

Lucia unlocked the front door and called out it was her as she stepped in. There was no reply.

"Strange," she muttered. "Put your bag by the coats and make yourself at home. Mi casa es tu casa

and all that."

Astrid stepped beside Lucia and looked round the living room quickly.

The room looked worn and slightly unsettled. Signs of Lucia's faith on the shelving, a statue of Our Lady and a wooden crucifix beside the door, the figure of Christ in agony a little disturbing for her. Photos in cheap frames adorned the shelving. Children mostly; Astrid presumed Lucia and Diego. The TV was off and about ten years old. Beside it an off-white Wii and a couple of games, none of which appealed to Astrid. Astrid would have called it homely but for the scattered coloured pencils on the coffee table and a few sprawled on the floor, a red scarf dropped by the coat rack which she'd almost stepped on, two cups - one on a book shelf, the other on a side table next to a vase of dying flowers and a disgusting, decaying bluebottle her artist's eye picked out beside it.

"Nice," she finally decided to say.

Lucia called out again.

"This isn't right. Mom would never leave the house like this."

She bent down, picked up the scarf and set it neatly on the hall stand.

"I'm really worried, Astrid."

"Could be your brother's at school and your mom's at work?" Astrid ventured.

Lucia's brown locks swayed in opposition. "Diego wouldn't leave his rucksack by the door... or his lunch box on the kitchen counter there... and why would mom's security pass be here on her jacket if she's at work?"

"Upstairs?" suggested Astrid.

"Will you come with me?" Lucia asked, her wide, dark eyes demanding 'yes'.