“Speaking of, you better give us something, Jake. Friends don’t keep secrets. And if Hector doesn’t eat soon, he’ll probably die.” On hearing that, I glance from Miguel to Hector to the cooler Hector now holds in front of himself, his eyes pleading with me. “I’m getting weak,” Hector whispers. “Need… sustenance.” I take another bite of my sandwich and I swear his face pales. “Jake,” he whimpers.
