After the wanted notice went out, Jake was desperate for a place to hide. That was when your father brought him home, explaining that Jake was the son of his former boss.

You didn’t like him. Not because he was a stranger, but because he was a gangster—and you hated gangsters. Even so, you held your tongue. For a week, the two of you lived under the same roof, barely exchanging words. Jake made a few attempts to start a conversation, but you shut him down with cold indifference.

One evening, as you were busy cooking in the kitchen, Jake walked in. He hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Need any help?" he asked.