As soon as I woke, I could tell I wasn’t in my own bed.
The thread count felt like it was hovering in the millions, and at first, before I lifted my head, my view was of an elaborate gold chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The bed was round and was as big as a small swimming pool. It was bordered with massive gold pillars and filmy white curtains. The room itself was also circular and lined with windows.
Eva’s face came into view.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“My home.”
I blinked. She had a home? I had no idea where that was.
“Where?”
“La Paz.”
“Mexico?”
“Yes.”
But then the ground shifted wildly under me.
“Earthquake,” I mumbled weakly.
She laughed. “My home is a boat.”
“A boat is your home?”
“One of them,” she said.
I glanced around at the sumptuous trappings. More like a fucking yacht.
“You have a broken arm.”
I glanced down. It had a cast on it.
“My doctor is good, but I am flying you back to California. Plus, James is worried. He wants to see you. Can you sit up?”
“I think so.”
I used one arm and my legs to scoot to a sitting position. Then I could really see the room. It was a master bedroom. A wall-sized TV was opposite me. It was on, but muted. Some massive press conference with a bunch of people on the steps of the Capitol in Sacramento and several podiums with official looking seals.
I watched as the screen flashed to aerial footage of Carnegie’s home. I read the ticker tape.
Joe Carnegie found dead in his home. Apparent suicide. Immigrations and Customs Enforcement had been investigating him and his child trafficking operation for the past six months. They showed two mug shots. I immediately recognized them. The two corrupt ICE guys looking for Rosalie in San Francisco—Sam Miller and Gabriel Hernandez. They’d been arrested for treason, conspiracy, child trafficking, the gamut.
Then the screen filled with a mugshot of the coyote. It said his name was William Montero. He was being charged with multiple rapes and murders. They cut back to the press conference. Then I saw her in the crowd—Espinoza—the Border Patrol agent who had taken me to the rape tree. They said she had been instrumental in the arrest of the coyote. I smiled. Then I turned to Eva.
“This is great news.”
She stared at me, unsmiling.
“What?”
“It’s a diversion tactic.” She drew a blade out of the sheath around her leather-clad leg and held it up in front of her mouth while she reapplied red lipstick.
“Diversion?” I sat up straighter.
“A three-year-old girl died at an Arizona detention camp yesterday. They made this announcement to try to divert attention. To distract us from what is going on.”
“That’s awful.” I sank back into the pillows, suddenly exhausted.
Eva took the knife she held and with the flick of a wrist sent it whizzing across the room where I heard it sink into something solid. I craned my head. The wall opposite her was made of some softer material and smack dab in the middle was a picture of a man I’d never seen before.
“Who is that?”
“He is the one behind all this.”
I stared. The guy had neat gray hair and a blue suit. He looked like any American CEO or politician. It wasn’t over yet.
Then I remembered. I pushed back the covers and swung one leg over the edge of the bed, suddenly frantic.
“Where’s Rosalie?”
“She’s in her own room getting ready.”
I stayed in bed, feeling a little dizzy.
“Getting ready?” I asked.
“She is coming back to San Francisco with you.”
“Wait?” I squinted. “What about her family?”
Eva shook her head. “The ones in Guatemala are dead.”
“Her grandmother? What about her brother?” I remembered the story about the boy dying in the detention camp.
“He’s been released from the detention camp. He was reunited with a man—a U.S. citizen claiming to be his uncle.”
“Was it? Is it Rosalie’s uncle?”
Eva tilted her head. “No. It was a man who needed workers for his soybean farm in Minnesota,” she said. “They can buy the teenage boys they need this way.”
“What?”
“They are not slaves. He pays them well. Charges them a very small amount of rent to live in a boarding house. The boys do not have to work for the man. He gets them out of the camp first—and then offers them work. If they want, they go with him back to Minnesota, if not, he lets them go. After that, it’s up to the boys what to do.”
“Did Miguel go with the man?”
“No. He chose not to. The man last saw him in San Diego near the airport.”
“We need to find him.”
She didn’t answer, just stared at me.
“Can’t we help him? Can’t we help Rosalie? I know they are just two kids of hundreds—thousands—but we have to help them. We have to do something.”
“It is a problem beyond what you and I can do,” she said.
“That’s a shitty attitude,” I said. “Some fucking Robin Hood you are.”
“Didn’t you see what happened with El Chacho?”
He was the cartel leader who’d been convicted by a U.S. court a year ago and then replaced with a man people only called El Grande Jefe. The big boss.
Eva continued. “They take the head off the beast, but it does not stop running. Like a chicken. But worse, it grows back. Maybe stronger?”
I swallowed. She was right. It was too big to fight.
“Why did they want Rosalie?”
“My men went to the resort. El Grande Jefe’s wife was waiting for the girl.”
My eyes widened. “His wife?”
Eva nodded. “We aren’t sure why. But there are some theories.”
“Like?”
“She cannot have a child and wants the girl for her own. Or…” Eva paused. “Or…that Rosalie is his own biological daughter.”
“You’re fucking kidding me?”
“He grew up in the same area where Rosalie is from. But nobody knows this. Everyone thinks he is Mexican. But he has been known to sneak back to Guatemala at least once a year. And he was most definitely there eight years ago when Rosalie’s mother got pregnant.”
“Her mother?”
“Rosalie’s mother was murdered shortly after she gave birth. They say she was trying to stop men from taking her baby away, and she ended up with a knife to her throat.”
I sat there with my mouth open thinking about this.
Rosalie, daughter of the head of the world’s most dangerous cartel.
No way. I started laughing. I realized it wasn’t funny and that I was hysterical. Finally, I stopped laughing and wiped the tears away. Eva must’ve put me on some good drugs.
“And you are going to send this girl home with me?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The wife. We have an agreement. She will swear that the girl was not Rosalie. That Carnegie substituted another girl to save himself. That the real Rosalie is still missing. That he never got her back. Maybe she is dead.”
“You think that will protect her? And us?”
“It’s all I have. For now.”
Eva turned her back on me as she spoke her next words. “It’s time for you to go.”
“What about you?”
“I’m returning to my home.”
“I thought this was your home.”
“I told you it was only one of my homes.”
Her secretiveness was annoying. And insulting.
“Why’d you send Rosalie to me?”
“I didn’t know what else to do,” she said without an ounce of apology. “I had other business to attend to.”
“What?”
“It’s nothing I can share.”
“You can’t share or you won’t share?”
She didn’t answer.
“You know what’s not fair?” I said.
“What?” I could detect a hint of amusement in her voice and the barest sign of a smile around her eyes.
“You are my last living relative, and yet you want nothing to do with me.”
Her eyes grew dark, and her features turned to stone. Again, she didn’t answer.
“You swoop in when I’m in over my head, and then you’re gone again.”
“I told you why,” she said. Her voice was quiet. A conversation we’d had once came back to me.
“What? Because you can’t bear to care about someone because you might get hurt?” I scoffed. “Welcome to my world.”
“It is for your own good. My world is very dangerous.”
“Like mine isn’t?” I held up my broken arm. I pointed to my face, which felt like it had been through a meat grinder, so I knew I looked like shit. The more I said, the greater the little flame of anger within me grew.
“My job is to protect you,” she said.
“Who said?” I didn’t say it in an angry voice. I said it in a pleading, soft tone. I really wanted to know. Had she vowed to my mother, to the universe, to our ancestors, to protect the bloodline, to protect me?
“You are all I have left.”
I shook my head dismissively.
“No.”
“Yes.” She said her eyes widening in challenge.
“You’re wrong. I’m not all you have left because you don’t have me. You are not a part of my life. You are nothing to me. Because you are not there. If you want to claim me, then you need to put in the time and effort to be part of my life. I’ve just told you that I want you in my life. Now, it’s up to you.”
I waited. She didn’t say a word.
“You can’t just drop into my life when there is an emergency,” I said. I could feel my face growing red, but I kept my voice calm. “You say you are protecting me, but you are only protecting yourself. You say you got hurt once so bad that you are afraid to care about anyone.
“Well, that’s bullshit. Don’t you think I’ve lost it all? Don’t you think I have every reason to be like that too, to avoid living because I’m afraid to get hurt? But I’m not doing that. I’m here taking the risk by caring about people and living my life. You are too afraid to do any of that. By avoiding the chance of getting hurt, you are avoiding living life. You are such a badass in so many ways, but the way you live life is that of a coward.”
My pulse raced with the harsh reality of my words. But she needed to hear it. And nobody was going to tell her except me. It was tough love. Because I did love her in some weird way. Maybe an unhealthy yearning for a mother figure. But it was love. And that’s why it hurt so much that she wanted nothing to do with me and my life.
I waited a few seconds for her to answer. Her gaze never left mine. I tried to read what was behind her eyes, but any emotion she had was veiled. Finally, when she didn’t answer, I closed my eyes and put my head back against the pillows.
When I opened them again, she was gone.
The next thing I knew, I heard the thudding of helicopter blades growing closer and louder until I could feel the vibration in my bones.
The boat shook slightly before the sound dissipated.
Three women came in and helped me get up and then took me to the helicopter on the deck where Rosalie was already strapped in.