“I speak English,” I mutter as I meet her eyes once more. “I just wasn’t expecting anyone.” I can feel the calluses on her palms as she grips my hand. Hard. It’s a real, proper, honest handshake. “Who doesn’t love a surprise, am I right?” “Me. I don’t love surprises.” Her eyes don’t leave mine, and I get the sense she’s sizing me up. Judging my worthiness.
