The water was running hot to clean the floors, the bucket was firmly placed underneath to fill it up, and as it reached near to the top, the man gripped the handle placing it on the floor. He placed the mop inside, as it soaked the water he swirled it around, as a splash of water touched his face, he wiped his brow, squeezed the mop and began mopping the gray and white tiled floor. Back and forth. Back and forth.

As he continued, he paused in thought remembering his younger days he and his siblings would play water fights with the garden hose in summer hiding behind the old oak tree, squirting either one of them unexpectedly. He laughed to himself at the memory. Back and forth. Back and forth, he mopped. He heard a voice in the distance but couldn't distinguish whose it was, but oh so secretive. 'Sshh' he heard the male voice say, 'We don't know whose listening?' as he listened intently, suddenly standing as upright and still as a lamppost not dating to move. Very slowly, he laid the mop straight out on the floor and tip toed to where he heard the voices talking.

He listened for what he thought was a lifetime, but what he heard changed his life. He was breathing deeply and heavily as he wanted to cough, but that would give the game away. Placing one hand over his mouth hoping to mask the cough he could no longer hold it inside his bursting chest, spluttering he coughed. There was a deadly silence as the...