Washington, 5115. That’s what the license plate said. Even though I was panicking, I was told to calm down. You’re safe. Help is coming. That’s what my intuition said, so I followed it. Despite the millions of reasons why I should have freaked out, I didn’t. I had to stay calm, deal with the situation, get help, and find a solution to get rid of the problem. I was wondering who owned that black Mercedes SUV, and why it stayed there for a few days. I finally saw someone opening and closing the back door, but he disappeared. A day later, Melo barked. When I realized what he was barking at, the same guy left that vehicle. I had to wait until I saw that person again to say something.

  "Hi," I said when I saw the same guy closing a door on the Mercedes. I knew I had to say something to him since I saw signs to do so. He looked surprised to hear from me, but at that point, I didn’t care. I needed help, and it didn’t matter where it came from. “So you’re the owner of this car.”

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  Even though my small talk was dumb, it was the start of something. I knew I had to make the first move to make an introduction. I knew that people were afraid to say hi first. I knew that if I did it first, that took the pressure off. And it worked! It turned out, his name was Greg Kelly. He was divorced, in his early 50’s, and living in his car. I would have never known that had I not spoken to him.

  Who would have thought that a horrid situation would lead to kindred spirits meeting? We had an instant connection. I was wondering why I was stuck in some strange town. I was wondering why things didn’t work out before. It led to this.