He wore a grey vest, simple dress pants and well-lurked black shoes. It looked like any retiree who had gone out for a walk in the Parque de la Ribera, in San Miguel del Río.
That's what Sergio saw.
A dark man.
Major.
Easy.
Sitting on an ancient bench where a phrase carved for decades was still being read:
“Only residents.”
An old, shameful phrase, of those that no one dared to erase because, according to the city council, “it was part of the story.”
Don Manuel hadn't sat there to provoke anyone.
He was just waiting for his wife, Carmen, and his granddaughter Lucia, who had gone to buy ice cream at the corner.
But Sergio Molina saw something else.
He saw a chance.
At thirty meters, several children played.
A couple ate snacks on a stone table.
Two old ladies walked by the arm.
And in the background, next to the kiosk, retired agent Javier Robles threw a ball with his son.
