Palm trees overhead were laying down a cool shadow for her and her boyfriend John to enjoy while they ate their lunch together on the shore of Lake Eola in downtown Orlando, Florida. He was working on a road crew nearby. They were resurfacing a side street. A smell of hot tar filled the air but it wasn’t very bothersome. It was coming up on the long Fourth of July weekend. City officials wanted the roads to be perfect for the planned holiday festivities. A kid rode by on a bike, a leashed dog chasing, barking. A baby cried nearby, a new mom sung a lullaby. Two kids were flying a kite along the lakeside. Carmen took off her ball cap, shook out her long brown hair and raised her chin. Looking up through the palm trees, bits of sun splashing her skin, she smiled contently. A car honked over by one of the streets John was working on. She turned her head to look, hoping to see John hurrying over to her, but he wasn’t there. A building across the park caught her eye instead. A window on the third floor of the hotel had a towel hanging, drying in the wind. A hotel bus was parked below on the street.
