He waited for ten long minutes, his gaze fixed on the road where she always came trotting with that confident little bounce. Nothing. Just passing students and the occasional cyclist. A dull ache bloomed behind his ribs. Something wasn’t right. She never missed two days in a row. Never.
A couple of students noticed Pedro standing outside. One of them, a girl holding a sandwich, asked gently, “No Lola today?” Pedro shook his head, sighing. “She didn’t come yesterday either. I don’t know where she’s gone. I’m getting worried.” The concern on their faces mirrored what he felt inside.