28 MARCH 1961

Jackie.”

Just as they passed the elementary school, a figure emerged from the shadows like a spy.

“Eh, Rubén, ¿qué tal?” Jackie gave him the secret handshake she used with the morning baseball crew.

“Can we talk in private?” He jerked his head toward the football field where they had held carnaval.

Taking a hint, Victoria started walking faster toward the junior high school. Jackie reached out to pull her back. “She’s my cousin. We can talk in front of her.”

Jackie knew what he had to report, because she knew what she had asked of him.

Rubén, however, hesitated. “Let’s go out into the field anyway. Too many people use this walkway.”

They walked in silence until they had almost reached the bleachers on the opposite sideline. “So I asked my dad about the passport forger—he had to get his altered because it said abogado, and you know they aren’t letting lawyers and other professionals out.”

Jackie nodded. She remembered that it was only a fluke that Tío Ernesto, an engineer, had been allowed out.

“But the thing is, he got the alteration while still in Cuba,” Rubén said.

Jackie understood what he wasn’t saying. “So he doesn’t know anyone locally?”

“No. There’s a rumor of someone in Hialeah, but my dad doesn’t know his name or how to get in touch with him.”

“I suppose that’s better than nothing,” said Victoria, ever the optimist.

“And you don’t have any other leads?” Jackie folded her arms tight across her chest, disappointed in her friend. If this was it, then why all the stupid secrecy?

“Well…” Rubén double-checked that no one was lurking behind the bleachers. “My dad did say there is a way of using his guy in Cuba.”

“Why didn’t you start with that?” Jackie demanded.

“It’s complicated. You’d have to send the money to a bank in Aruba and send all the paperwork to a post-office box there. The forger—or an associate, more likely—picks up the money and forms and smuggles them back into Cuba.”

Jackie rolled her eyes. “It sounds like something out of a radio play or movie.”

“My dad says it’s legitimate.”

“You should never wire money to a stranger. And to a foreign country? There’s no guarantee we won’t be robbed.” Victoria shook her head. Thank goodness Jackie had insisted Victoria stay. Jackie would never have known to think about those things.

“There’s more.” Rubén stuffed his hands deep in his pockets. “You then have to get word to the person wanting the forgery to pick up the passport in Santiago for an additional fee.”

Jackie let out a string of swear words that left Victoria blushing. Paying the additional fee was irrelevant: Mima could afford it. Pipo could too, though he’d never leave and never part with so much dough. Even with gasoline shortages and guards stopping vehicles traveling for any reason besides work, Mima could still find a way to get to Santiago de Cuba, hours away in the southeastern part of the island. The problem all came down to communication. If there were a way to confidentially communicate with Mima, everything would be simpler. They could send her directly to Rubén’s dad’s guy and skip the whole sending-money-to-Aruba part.

But they had no way to contact Mima. They had heard nothing from anyone in Cuba since Jackie arrived.

“See you on the diamond? We still have a few minutes.” And Rubén loped off to the rest of the boys Jackie usually joined for a quick inning before the bell rang.

Instead of going after him, Jackie turned and buried her head in Victoria’s shoulder, almost knocking her off her feet. But Victoria took a step back to regain her balance and wrapped her slender arms quickly around Jackie to hold her tight.

“It’s useless,” Jackie sobbed. For months she had been burying her feelings, staying strong, avoiding anything that would make Real Jackie break down. But she couldn’t anymore. She couldn’t. “Everything we’ve done, for nothing. We’re never going to get Mima out. Even if by some miracle this forger guy in Santiago doesn’t cheat us, we can’t get the passport to Mima. If Alto can’t get Mima a passport, in what universe did we think we could instead? And don’t say we’re going home soon anyway, because that’s never going to happen. I know I’m never going to see my family again.”

Jackie wept harder, her whole body shaking. She felt Victoria pressing her cheek against the top of her hair as Victoria always did, being half a head taller than her.

“I know it’s hard, mama.” Victoria used the term of endearment every Cuban had been called. “But I’m not giving up. I’ll continue doing everything I can. Both for returning home and for getting your mom out, whichever comes first.”

“You’re just in denial.”

“Maybe, but if we did nothing, and then found out there were things we could have done, we would feel far worse.”

The words hung around them for several agonizing minutes. Jackie wanted nothing more than to pout, scream, and whine. But the longer she thought about what Victoria had said, the more she realized she couldn’t disagree.

“You’re right. We can’t give up.” Jackie rubbed her face dry against Victoria’s cuffed shirt sleeve before straightening up. She squared her shoulders but still reached for her cousin’s supportive hand. Through her swollen eyes, it took a second to realize they must have missed the first bell, judging by the empty fields and lack of students milling around the school entrance.

Good. She couldn’t bear introducing her friends to Real Jackie.