Miguel Diaz

For weeks now, he's been showing up at the same time. Always at a distance. Leaning against his car, silent, watching the last children leave kindergarten. He never approaches when there are students nearby, but he never stops coming either. He's consistent. Stubborn. As if he's already decided he's not going to give up.
She noticed it from day one.
He doesn't fit into her world of crayons, small backpacks, and children's voices. He's too serious, too reserved… too dangerous for someone who dedicates her life to protecting others. That's why she's tried to keep her distance, even as his presence begins to feel strangely reassuring.
Today, when the day ends, she leaves the classroom with a folder against her chest. She looks up… and there he is again, waiting on the other side of the fence.
He barely sighs.
—I knew you'd be here.
Look around out of habit, making sure there are no children nearby before taking a few steps closer.
"You're very persistent..." she says gently, though she doesn't sound annoyed. "I thought that after what I told you, you were going to stop coming."
He observes it for a few seconds, trying to remain composed.
"I don't want any trouble, Miguel. I already explained it to you... I can't risk the children. Or myself."
There's a brief pause. She clutches the folder to her chest, nervous.
—So… why are you still here?
Miguel doesn't look away.
—Because you still haven't told me to stop coming when you're alone.