Chương 10
“Of course.”
Celia hugged her.
Teresa stiffened for one second, then collapsed against her older sister.
I looked away.
Celia’s expression changed over Teresa’s shoulder.
She pointed silently toward the kitchen, telling me to go.
I did.
There was a pot of coffee already made.
I poured a cup I did not want and stood by the refrigerator listening to my mother cry in the next room.
I had heard her cry perhaps four times in my life.
Once when her father died.
Once when my sister moved to Arizona after college.
Once during a hospital scare that turned out not to be a heart attack.
The fourth time was because of my father.
I stared at the coffee.
My phone buzzed again.
A photograph from Mariana.
The cashier’s check lay on the passenger seat of a car.
Under it was another message.
We did not go inside.
Then another.
But someone is at the warehouse.
I called immediately.
Mariana answered in a whisper.
“You said you didn’t go.”
“We didn’t.”
“Then how do you know someone’s there?”
“We drove past.”
“Who?”
“I can’t see.”
“What car?”
“A black SUV.”
“That could be anybody.”
“I know.”
“Leave.”
“We are leaving.”
I heard Ernesto in the background.
Then Mariana inhaled sharply.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Mariana.”
“The SUV is moving.”
“Drive.”
“We are.”
Her voice changed.
“Daniel.”
“What?”
“It’s following us.”
“Where are you?”
“Heading west on Erie Boulevard.”
“Is Ernesto driving?”
“Yes.”
“Do not go home.”
“I know.”
“Go somewhere public.”
“Daniel, there are businesses everywhere.”
“Somewhere with people.”
Ernesto said something sharply in the background.
Mariana turned away from the phone.
“What?”
I could hear the engine rise.
Then she came back.
“It changed lanes with us.”
My chest tightened.
“Call 911.”
“For what?”
“For following you.”
“They’re going to ask whether the driver threatened us.”
“I don’t care.”
“Daniel.”
“Call.”
There was a short silence.
Then she said, “Fine.”
The line disconnected.
I walked out of Celia’s kitchen and nearly collided with my aunt.
She had one hand pressed against her chest.
“What happened?”
“Mariana might be getting followed.”
Her face sharpened instantly.
“By who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is this connected to your father?”
“Probably.”
Celia looked past me toward the living room.
Teresa was sitting on the couch with a box of tissues beside her.
I lowered my voice.
“Don’t tell Mom yet.”
Celia’s eyebrows rose.
“I am seventy percent certain this family’s entire problem is people saying that sentence.”
She was right.
That irritated me.
I walked outside.
The air had cooled, and somebody down the block was burning leaves despite the town’s rules.
My phone rang less than a minute later.
Mariana.
“They turned off.”
“Where?”
“Near Thompson Road.”
“Did you get a plate?”
“No.”
“Did you call?”
“Yes.”
“What did they say?”
“If we see it again, call back and don’t approach.”
“Good.”
“They also asked if we knew the driver.”
“Do you?”
“No.”
“Where are you going?”
“A coffee shop.”
“Stay there.”
“Daniel.”
“What?”
“I am not twelve.”
“I know.”
“You keep talking to me like I am.”
I leaned against my car.
“I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“And I’m telling you what that sounds like from this side.”
I closed my eyes.
There were at least six answers available to me, and five of them would make things worse.
“I’m sorry.”
The words came out reluctantly.
Not because I did not mean them.
Because apologizing while frightened felt like giving up control over the only thing I had.
Mariana was quiet.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Take care of Teresa.”
“She’s with Celia.”
“Then stay for ten minutes and make sure she actually plans to stay.”
That sounded like Mariana.
Practical before affectionate.
It was one of the things I loved about her when it wasn’t directed at me.
“Okay.”
“We’ll send you the coffee shop address.”
“Okay.”
She hung up.
When I returned inside, Teresa was no longer crying.
She sat upright while Celia made toast in the kitchen with unnecessary aggression.
My mother looked at me.
“What happened?”
I opened my mouth.
Celia pointed the butter knife at me from across the room.
“Remember what I said.”
I glared at her.
Teresa looked between us.
“What?”
“Mariana and Ernesto drove past a warehouse connected to the missing money.”
My mother’s face tightened.
“And?”
“There was a vehicle there.”
“And?”
“It followed them for a little while.”
She stood.
“Are they all right?”
“Yes.”
“Did they call the police?”
“Yes.”
“Who was following them?”
“We don’t know.”
Teresa picked up her purse.
“I’m coming with you.”
“No.”
Celia dropped the knife onto a plate.
“There it is again.”
I turned.
“Not helping.”
“I disagree.”
Mom took one step toward me.
“You do not get to hide things from me because you think I’m fragile.”
“I’m not hiding anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was trying to avoid piling more on you.”
“That is what your father says.”
That stopped me.
She seemed to regret it immediately, but she did not take it back.
I looked away.
The wooden goose on the porch was visible through the window.
Its tiny scarf had twisted sideways in the wind.
“Fine.”
Teresa picked up her bag.
Celia took it from her.
“No.”
My mother blinked.
“You just accused him of controlling me.”
“I can think two things.”
Celia put the bag on the floor.
“You are staying here for one night.”
“I want to see Mariana.”
“Then call her.”
“I need to know what’s happening.”
“You need blood-pressure medication, food, and several hours without Rogelio standing three feet away explaining why crimes are technically budgeting.”
My mother stared at her.
I covered my mouth.
Celia looked at me.
“You laugh and I’ll throw you out too.”
Teresa sat again.
The decision seemed to exhaust her.
“Call me when you get there.”
“Not later.”
“I said I will.”
She nodded.
May you like
I kissed the top of her head.
She caught my wrist before I moved away.
