It’s nighttime when we finally arrive in Barcelona and the lights of the city dance in the darkness.
Enrique has woken up and, along with several other passengers, we watch as the city comes into view. Even with the danger looming over us, I can’t help but feel the excitement of the city ahead of us. It seems to take forever to get there and when we do, I’m practically dragging Enrique down to where we board the busses taking us closer into the city. With no luggage, we are the first to board.
When we get off, we walk for a while until we come to a roundabout with a large column statue in the center. At night it’s lit up, giving it an impressive air.
“Christopher Columbus,” Enrique explains, pointing to the figure mounted at the very top of it.
My eye is immediately caught by the activity behind it. It looks like a wide, well-lit path with several stalls. “What’s going on over there?”
“La Rambla. It is mostly for tourists.”
“Well, I’m a tourist,” I retort with a laugh.
“The circumstances aren’t exactly ideal, Leira.”
“What? Do you think they’re going to attack us here? Look how many people are around.”
He seems to consider that favorably, and I drag him in that direction before he can change his mind.
Shops selling souvenirs, mini outdoor cafes, artists with their pictures on display, men hawking flashing, spinning gadgets. Having nothing much to compare it to, it vaguely reminds me of Olvera Street in Los Angeles, a place that my school would take field trips to, though La Rambla is not as densely packed or quaint.
A young man sidles up to us and says something in Spanish, nodding his head up with a smirk as he eyes Enrique. He must not like what he sees on his face so he just as easily saunters away.
“Did he say coffeeshop? Why would we want to go to a coffee shop?”
Enrique laughs. “That’s code for drugs.”
“Coffee shop is code for drugs?”
“You’ve obviously never been to Amsterdam.”
“Obviously.”
Enrique laughs again. “Barcelona is a beautiful city and I love it here, but you have to be careful all the same. If you had a purse, I’d tell you to keep a close eye on it.”
“I guess you fit right in here,” I snark.
He throws his arm around my shoulder and draws me in. “And what would your father have to say about what you’re up to right now?” he murmurs in a taunting voice.
I smirk and roll my eyes. My smile fades as I consider that. I have no intention of giving this adventure up, even as dangerous as it may be. But Dad has to know I’m gone by now, and he’s probably assuming the worst.
“I should call him, or at least get in touch. He’s got to be worried sick.”
Enrique squeezes my shoulders with his arm. “Do you want to go back home?”
“No,” I say so suddenly even I’m surprised. I turn to look at him, and he’s studying me hard. “I said I would stay here with you and that’s what I want to do.”
He pauses before responding. “I don’t want to downplay the danger we’re in. You need to know just how easily and quickly things could go downhill.”
I turn to stare ahead at the lights and the crowd filling this part of the city, and I realize—I’ve never felt so alive.
“Enrique, I’ve lived my whole life in the shadow of some mysterious danger. It’s taken almost half of my family from me. At least here? Now? I know what I’m facing.” I stop, forcing him to stop with me, then I turn to face him. “And I know who I’m facing it with. I’m staying.”
He stares hard at me for a moment, then nods. “In which case, I have an idea.”
Twenty minutes later, I have a pre-paid cellphone in my hands with international calling.
“Tell him just enough so that he knows you’re safe. Don’t tell him where we are, though. I don’t need another team of professionals swarming down on us.”
“Yes, I’ve got it, Enrique,” I say in a slightly patronizing voice. He smirks and takes a step back.
Then, I make the call.
It’s answered on the second ring.
“Yes?” The panic in Dad’s voice causes a pang of guilt to seize my chest.
“Dad, it’s Leira.”
“Leira.” He repeats my name with a mix of relief and anger. “Where are you? What have they done?”
“No one has taken me,” I reassure him in a soothing voice, even as I give Enrique a knowing look. He continues to smirk back at me. “And I’m fine, Dad.”
“Where are you?” He repeats. I can hear that authoritative tone creeping into his voice. It both reassures and annoys me. At least he’s past the phase of worrying, but now he’s back in Dad mode.
“I’m in…Europe and I’m going to stay here for a while.”
“I should have known sending you to that damn convent wouldn’t be enough!” he roars. “Never mind the danger I specifically warned you about! You of all people would find a way to escape as usual to go off on some adventure. No doubt with some boy.”
“He’s not a boy!” I snap, feeling my anger come to a head. Out of all the things to be concerned about, it’s the idea of me with a “boy” that upsets him the most? “He’s a man, Dad. Because I’m a grown woman, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Enrique’s face breaks out into a bemused smirk, which I ignore, lest I break out into laughter.
“A grown woman?” Dad repeats on the other end. “How much do you even know of the world out there, mija?”
“I guess I’m about to find out.”
“Leira, this is no time for your foolishness. There are people out there right now looking to take you, and all you’re interested in is—”
“Who?” I interrupt. “Who is it that’s trying to take me?”
That finally gets silence on the other end.
“This is not the time, mija.” I can tell by the tone in his voice that I’ve backed him into
