“
She breathed the spicy smells of frying onions and chilies from the taco stand on the corner and tried to figure out where she was.
In the distance the familiar shining office buildings of the Los Angeles skyline stood tall in the smoggy brown air. Behind her, faded stuffed animals pressed against the barred glass of a liquor store, their black eyes peering over advertisements for cigarettes, cerveza, and lottery tickets. Next door a fanfare of lace and satin filled the window, waves of quinceañera dresses jamming the display.
She didn't need to see more. She was on the wrong side of Wilshire Boulevard, east of Alvarado. Enemy territory.
”
”