“They’re open,” I say, pointing at the stalls.
“Um…are you Mrs. De La Rosa?”
I turn to look at her. I realize she’s young, maybe sixteen. I nod.
“Here.” She digs into her pocket and pulls out a wrinkled, unsealed envelope.
“What is it?” I ask, taking it, opening the flap to see a cell phone inside along with a sheet of paper.
She bites her lip, then looks at the door. “Someone just asked me to give it to you,” she says and slips out before I can ask her another question.
I take out the phone, note the crack across the screen. I push the home button and gasp when I see a picture of Michael and Hazel laughing, Michael with a huge cone of cotton candy in his hand, his tongue blue as he licks it off his chin.
I unfold the scrap of paper. Just a torn sheet of paper. But I recognize the handwriting.
Do you see now what he’s capable of? I can’t get hold of you. He’s got you locked up tight. Ivy, if he finds me, he will kill me, too, and you will never even hear about it.
But I guess you don’t care about that, do you? You’re on his side now. Even after he murdered our father.
Just remember, I did this because you made me do it.
I’m waiting in the parking lot of the Marriott two blocks away with Hazel and her illegitimate brat. Get here in five minutes and I’ll let them go. Come alone. No Santiago. No soldiers. Or else Michael will learn how a real gun works.
Want proof I have them? I'm sure he’s made me out to be a liar. Hazel’s passcode is 3636. We took some family selfies.
Abel.
Hazel and Michael? I haven’t talked to them since… well, it’s been maybe four or five days, I realize. I tried to call a few times since Santiago told me about Dad but haven’t gotten through, and I’ve been so depressed I didn’t stop to think about it. I realize now Michael hasn’t called me in several days either.
Santiago is protecting them. He told me he’s protecting them.
My hands trembling, I punch in the code Abel gave me on the phone that I know is Hazel’s and when I click on the camera icon, there they are. The family selfies.
I have to take hold of the counter to keep from dropping to my knees. Terror fills me as I scroll through photo after photo of Hazel and Michael sitting in the backseat of a car. Hazel’s eyes are red and she’s clutching Michael to her. His face is buried in her chest. It’s the last one that’s the worst. Abel’s face looms in the foreground of this one and I almost don’t recognize him for the grin on his face. He’s in the front seat of the car and my sister and Michael are in the back and in the corner of the selfie I see the gun.
Before I can think a text pings on the phone. Two words.
Five minutes.
I set the phone and the note on the counter and move. I don’t have time for anything else. Five minutes to get to the Marriott. I can’t risk telling Santiago. Can’t risk harm coming to my sister or nephew. Santiago will find the note. Someone will.
I walk out of the bathroom and hear the noise of the crowded reception room. I swear I hear Santiago’s voice but I don’t see him and I hurry to the exit.
Abel is desperate. Was he desperate when he tried to abort our baby? No, this is different. He is out of friends. Out of choices.
And I know he means me harm. Even if he is blood. But I have no choice but to go. His threat is real.
A waiter almost barrels into me when he comes hurrying out of the swinging door of the kitchen. He begins to apologize, but I shake my head and tell him it’s fine.
Before Santiago or any of his men see me, I slip into the kitchen, pausing only to spot the open door leading out into the street beyond. I hurry through the bustling space, thinking about this ceremony of serving a meal after a funeral. Wondering how people can eat on such an occasion.
And when I’m outside, I see two of Santiago’s men standing at one end of the street as the one lights a cigarette for the other. I hurry to the other end, and a moment later, I am on a bigger, busier street. I rush down one block, two, and when I turn another corner I see a queue of taxis at the hotel. I’m about to cross the street to hurry to the lot when a car screeches to a stop beside me and I have to jump out of the way.
I see them then. The terrified faces of Michael and Hazel in the backseat. Abel leans across the front seat and pushes the passenger side door open. I don’t miss the pistol in his hand.
“Get in,” he barks and I do and we’re off before I’ve even closed the door.
30 Ivy
“What are you doing? He’s a child!” I half turn to the back and half to Abel who shifts into a higher gear as he speeds out of town.
He glances at me, his gaze dropping to my rounded stomach with disgust.
“Ivy,” Hazel says. “I’m so sorry.”
“Santiago… he said he—” my voice breaks. He was protecting them. He said he was protecting them.
“Soldiers are stupid,” Abel says. “If you set your mind to it, you can achieve anything. Isn’t that right, Mikey? Life lesson for you. You’re fucking welcome.”
Michael starts to howl.
“Slow down!” I yell as a he runs a red light and cars honk their horns at us. I take a deep breath in and fasten my seatbelt with shaking hands. “I’m here. Let them go,
