Mark sighed and ran a hand through his sandy brown hair, seeming a little disappointed by her words. Perhaps he had hoped that she come to him because she was finally ready to accept that he loved her and so would help her.
When he met her eyes again, his own were filled with a loneliness she’d watched grow for more than a decade. "Well, come on then. If you want me to risk my job giving you answers, the least you can do is help me make supper and stay to eat it."
Rosa watched him go and felt a painful throb in her chest. He was the guy she would have chosen before life froze her heart and wreathed her in shadows.
Maybe one day, if this ever ends, life could be different, and we might have a chance.
"So," Mark said, handing her a knife and some vegetables to chop. "What do you want to know?"
Rosa gave him a grateful smile, then took a steadying breath. "I want to know everything, but let's start with why the FBI has turned up in a tiny border town. My guess is the most recent murder was somehow linked to them."
Mark took her in again, and she knew he realized that she had finally woken up from her twelve years of enchanted sleep. A little hope sparked in his blue eyes, and he nodded. "You always were smarter than most. The body is that of an FBI agent who had been working undercover in Mexico. I don't know why he came back as an illegal or how he ended up in the wrong place."
Rosa frowned but nodded. "Okay. Besides the burial, are there other similarities?"
She caught his sharp glance at her clinical tone, but mercifully, he didn't comment. Instead, began to iterate his finds, acting along with her, as if both men had been strangers.
They were halfway through dinner, the conversation now leaving the realms of the known and entering the world of conjecture, when someone began hammering frantically on the back door.
"Camelia?" Mark said, startled as the young woman half fell into the house, hazel eyes wide and full of tears.
"Where have you been?" she demanded, ignoring Mark and locking her eyes on her sister.
"Right here. I did leave a note. What's happened?"
Camelia's tears spilled over, and she thrust a letter at Rosa with shaking hands.
Rosa exchanged a glance with Mark as he closed the door, looking perplexed even as he offered Camelia some calming tea. Then she looked down at the letter, battered from its time clamped in Cam's fist. The first thing she noticed was that it had been written using a quill and ink, as her father had enjoyed doing, although the handwriting was not his. This was messier, the letters sharper.
She began to read, and every word seemed to add weight to her shoulders until she was clutching the table for support.
"What is it?" Mark asked in an undertone as Cam took a shaky sip of tea.
"It is from Lucia. Telling us to keep our heads down, our mouths shut, and that she loves us."
Camelia looked up at Rosa. "You can find her, right? You were always good at these games."
Rosa looked back at the letter, her mind buzzing. Games. Her father often played treasure hunt games with them. She flipped the paper over, and sure enough, there was a feather drawn on the back. There were always three clues: the Quill, the Inkpot, and the Scroll.
"Let's go," Rosa said, grabbing Cam's hand and tossing a thank you over her shoulder to Mark, telling him she'd call him later.
They raced back to their own home.
"She isn't here, Rosa. I came out of my room, and she was gone. There's stuff missing from her room. She's broken her promise."
Rosa winced. After their father's body was found and no sign of their mother appeared, Lucia had taken over everything, promising them that she would always be there, never abandoning them.
"We don't know that yet. Just sit," Rosa said, pushing her youngest sister towards the armchair. "Let me figure this out."
Rosa entered her father's study with a tightness in her chest that made breathing hard. She let her eyes look over everything, trying to spot anything that didn't belong, fighting hard to ignore the familiar smells, all old and fading now. The use of her father's writing supplies made her sure the next clue was here.
She found her father's wax seal, standing atop another note, this one marked with an inkpot.
She pocketed the seal and flipped open the note, reading aloud. "I never intended to break my word to you or our mother, but I can't ignore the signs anymore. I know you do not understand, just as I know that it is you, Rosa, and not Camelia that will find this first." Rose let out a small laugh, even as tears stung her eyes. "I had no time to explain, to pass the baton to you carefully. Keep Cam safe. Don't look for me."
Under that was the next clue, She dances at the turn of the crescent moon.
Rosa folded the letter and returned to the living room. Camelia took one look at her face and began to cry again.
"She really left us?"
"She loves us, Cam. She will be back, okay? I don't know everything yet, but I will. Are you alright here?"
Camelia stood abruptly. "No. I'm not just going to sit here. The car's still here, and the bus didn't run today. If she left, she can't have..."
