#freak2fr

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I'm in my bedroom folding laundry when maintenance arrives to fix my broken garbage disposal. Two guys enter—Roberto and Diego based on their uniforms. They immediately start chatting in Spanish, assuming I can't understand a word.

Initially, it's harmless workplace banter. Roberto's complaining about his back pain from yesterday's job. Diego mentions his daughter's quinceañera planning. Standard conversation while they're unpacking their tools in the kitchen.

I continue organizing my closet, but I'm absorbing every syllable. My father's Colombian. I've been fluent since childhood, though my red hair and pale skin make people assume otherwise.

Then their discussion takes a darker turn.

Roberto starts eyeing my apartment layout. "This setup is perfect," he says in Spanish. "Single woman, expensive taste, ground floor access." Diego glances at my designer purse hanging by the door. "Look at that Hermès bag. That's rent money right there."

My hands freeze on the sweater I'm folding, but I keep moving, staying invisible.

Roberto's voice drops lower: "You know what? We should come back tonight. I still have the building master key from the last job."

Diego sounds hesitant. "I don't know, man. That's risky."

But Roberto's already strategizing. "Think about it. She's alone, trusts us enough to leave us unsupervised. We take what we need, make it look like a break-in. She'll never suspect the maintenance guys."

I'm now secretly recording on my phone, pretending to scroll through social media.

Roberto points toward my jewelry dish on the nightstand. "See that diamond ring? Probably worth more than our monthly salaries combined. She leaves it sitting there like it's costume jewelry."

My grandmother's engagement ring. The one thing I'd never replace.

Diego's getting nervous, but Roberto continues planning. "Here's the beauty—we know exactly when she's home. Her work schedule, her habits. I've been tracking patterns for weeks."

My blood turns ice cold. He's been watching me.

"Tonight's perfect," Roberto says in Spanish. "She mentioned to the landlord she's visiting her sister this weekend. Empty apartment, no witnesses, and we'll be long gone before Monday."

Except I never told anyone about visiting my sister. I canceled that trip yesterday.

They're finishing up the disposal repair, cleaning their tools. Roberto makes his final comment: "This girl's about to learn why you don't flash wealth around working men."

They head toward my front door, convinced they've just cased the perfect target.

I walk out of my bedroom and approach them calmly.

"El triturador de basura funciona perfectamente ahora," I say in flawless Spanish, watching their expressions shatter instantly. "The garbage disposal works perfectly now."

Roberto drops his wrench. Diego's face drains of all color.

"Oh, and gentlemen," I continue in Spanish, holding up my phone, "I recorded every word of your little heist plan. Every single detail."

Roberto starts backpedaling in broken English. "We were just... it was only jokes—"

"Jokes?" I switch back to Spanish. "You mapped my schedule, planned to steal my grandmother's ring, and discussed using master keys for breaking and entering. Hilarious."

Diego's already backing toward the exit. "Look, we weren't serious about anything."

"Not serious?" I stay in Spanish. "You've been stalking my routine for weeks and planned tonight's robbery down to the minute."

I pull out my work phone. "This recording goes to police, your company, and building management in exactly sixty seconds."

They both got arrested and investigation is still on going.