“Charlie.”
I’d been digging my fingers into my sides and clenching my jaw until I heard my name. Looking up, I forced myself to relax. “Yeah?”
“Lunch?” my uncle asked, lifting his phone. “I can order takeout.”
“Sure.”
Jasmine gave me a questioning look.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I think I’ll help Vanessa go through those files.”
I never volunteered for quality time with my uncle’s partner, but I needed another distraction before I could go into a full-blown panic attack. My phone buzzed as I stepped into the hallway. I ripped it out of my pocket to see that I had a text from an unknown number.
You haven’t lost me yet, Charlie boy.
I laughed. I’d never seen a kissy face emoji next to my name before but I could get used to it. As long as we were still together, she could send me as many corny emojis as she wanted.
My mom has a day full of touristy things planned, her second text said, I’ll call you tonight.
I stood there, grinning down at the little conversation bubble, long enough for Jasmine to catch up to me. She had to stand up on her tiptoes to read over my shoulder. I didn’t notice her until she pinched my cheek.
“Who’s a happy little Chuckie-poo?” she cooed. “You are!”
I swatted her hand away. “Cut it out, Jazz.”
“Aren’t you so glad you listened to your big sister’s very sage advice?” she asked, batting her eyelashes at me.
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled, preparing my reply. I angled the phone away from her while I typed.
Have fun.
My finger hovered over the “send” key. There was so much more I wanted to say.
Thanks.
I’ll never hurt you again.
I love you so much that the thought of losing you makes me want to barf.
I can’t wait to hear your voice.
To name a few.
But I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. At least, not through a text. So I just pressed “send.”
“Hey, Jazz?” I said, sliding my phone back into my pocket.
She’d been halfway down the hall but she spun around to give me a toothy grin. “Yeah, Charlie?”
“Thanks. For, you know, everything.”
My sister shrugged, smile still in place. “That’s what I’m here for.” But when she turned around and continued on her way, she’d lost the pep in her step.
◆◆◆
“Can I ask you something?”
Three hours after we’d started sifting through the sea of unending police reports, Vanessa had finally gotten the guts to speak up. I’d been happy to ignore her deep breaths, awkward shuffles, and secretive glances. Just because she was dropping serious hints didn’t mean I had to ask her what was wrong. But considering the fact that my uncle loved this woman and was only denying himself a relationship with her due to his extreme sacrificial love for us, I decided against ignoring her request.
“Sure,” I muttered, setting aside the report I’d been reading. I’d answer her uncomfortable question for Uncle Vic.
Vanessa angled her laptop away. She looked exhausted. Jasmine told me she’d found our uncle and his partner passed out in this very same break room this morning. Neither of them had gone home or showered or had a decent meal in almost forty-eight hours. It was finally starting to show. Vanessa’s eyes were bloodshot. The lines in her face were more defined and there was a sheen to her hair I’d never seen before. I was sure Uncle Victor looked and felt even worse, but he had yet to emerge from the conference room where he was having his video chat with Interpol and the FBI.
“Jasmine made her feelings about me and Vic pretty clear earlier.” Vanessa pulled the elastic band out of her hair, releasing a mushroom cloud of curls. It wasn’t a ‘fro, exactly; the curls had more definition and weight. Each seemed to be a different shade of brown or black.
I shifted my gaze to her eyes when I realized I was staring. “Doesn’t sound like a question, Ms. Burkley.”
Smiling sheepishly, she said, “I was wondering what your thoughts were.”
“On you and my uncle? Getting together?” I shrugged, turning back to the report. Like I was totally fine talking about my uncle’s love life. “I’m not against it. It would make him happy.”
“So you think it really is just your secret holding him back?” she asked slowly.
“Yeah, but he could also be afraid of losing you.”
“You’re kidding.”
I met her look of surprise with a blank expression. “If the relationship fails, that’s it. No more work partnership or friendship. Holding back is the only way to make sure you stick around. Makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“I guess…” Vanessa chuckled. “It’s just so mundane. I was sure there was a more complicated reason.”
“Vic’s not a complicated guy.”
Listing her head to the side, she murmured, “True.” She tied her hair back again and resumed her typing with renewed vigor. “Thanks for being real with me.”
“Sure.”
We went back to our respective tasks, back to the silence. I couldn’t help noticing it was more comfortable now. She was all right, I decided. If my uncle had to love anyone, I was glad it was her.
Jasmine came sprinting around the corner then. “Found them!”
Vanessa jerked and almost fell out of the leather couch.
“Santiago and Mila Velazquez,” my sister said, marching toward me while reading the names off a slip of paper. “Formerly known as Emiliano and Lola Ruiz, Dante and Jimena Suarez, Rafael and Alegria Dominguez, and etcetera.” She slapped the page down on the cheap table where I’d set up shop.
The piles of files on either side of me wobbled. I placed a hand over each of them to keep them from toppling over. “How?” I asked. “Where? When?”
“Uncle Vic’s Interpol contact,” Jasmine said with a triumphant smile. “He traced the Salamander’s hit in New Delhi to a crime syndicate known as Vishnu’s Vipers. There were several people suspected
