It was the snow he couldn’t get used to. Growing up, he had never experienced such freezing conditions. Sure, they had snow in the mountains, but he was from the coast. He’d spent his younger days on the beach, skipping school to make extra money from the surf tourists that rolled into town each day. Why did I choose this place, he thought, as he hunched up his shoulders. He’d been here nineteen years now, but the winters still hit him hard.

Taking off a glove, he pulled the keys from his coat pocket and unlocked the same shutters he’d been opening every morning for nearly two decades. It still annoyed him that it had ended this way. He’d been somebody once, he thought, people would always notice me, whisper my name in the streets, respect me. He flicked the switch by the store cupboard door and heard the ever familiar hum of the neon strip lights flicker to life about his head. He looked at the clock on the wall above the cash register. 5:50am. Alice would be here soon to help with the day. He liked Alice. She had helped him to settle into the community when he arrived and had been the one who had helped to get him this job with Mr Majeski.

Leaving the sun kissed beaches of southern Mexico far behind, he’d imagined life would be different when he got here, even thinking he would have had his own stores by now, but things hadn’t worked out that way. His case officer had advised against starting a business as it could draw unwanted attention from south of the border. It was nearly twenty years, he thought, maybe one day soon. Deep down inside he knew it wouldn’t happen, as those he’d left behind would never give up looking for him, even this far north in Montana.