“Is this your boyfriend?” her mother asked in Spanish.
“No,” she said, embarrassed.
Her mother didn’t appear to believe her. She repeated the question to Ian in the same language. He just smiled and replied, “I need to speak with her in private, if you don’t mind.”
Maria smothered a groan. She’d never live this visit down. An American had come all the way to Mezcala for her. He had a handsome face and a charming manner. He was like a real-life storybook prince, searching for the girl with the glass slipper.
She couldn’t tell her mother the truth—that he was a cop, and she was a fugitive.
“Let’s go outside,” she said.
Delfina followed them, so Maria reached into her pocket for some money and sent her sister across the street to buy candy.
Maria thought Ian would ask what was wrong with Delfina, but he didn’t. He didn’t ask why Maria had left his bed without saying goodbye, either. He studied her for a long moment, standing close. He seemed relieved to find her, rather than angry she’d gone.
“You smell like earth,” he said in English.
“Like dirt?”
He leaned in and breathed her hair. “Like earth and fresh water.”
She imagined that she smelled of the mud that lined the riverbank, but he made it sound pleasant. She was glad she’d taken time to bathe this morning. Otherwise she’d have stunk of bus fumes and road dust. “Did you come here to smell me?”
His eyes darkened at the question. It dawned on her that they were the exact color of the Balsas, a woodsy blend of green and brown. “I came to ask you about Armando’s daughter.”
Her heart fell. Of course he was here on official business.
Of course.
There were no fairy-tale princes in Mezcala. No handsome American bachelors looking for love. There were just a lot of poor people like her who worked long hours to buy food and clothes and medicine, and dreamed of better days ahead.
“Armando’s daughter?” she repeated, moistening her lips.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know her.”
Now he was angry, and she was glad for it. He hadn’t come here to woo her. She wasn’t going to be his girlfriend. They couldn’t share any other kind of passion, so let them share this. Let him be angry. She swallowed hard, watching a pulse throb at the base of his throat.
“She might be in danger,” he said in a softer tone. “Armando has some ruthless enemies. They’ll go after her to get to him.”
“Can they find her?”
“Probably.”
His warning sent a chill down her spine. She didn’t think anyone else knew about the letter Armando had given her, but the cartels had spies everywhere. Its members had been known to kill women and children.
There was something about Sarai that made Maria uneasy, as well. Maybe it was her composure, or her quickness to pick up on the“mariposa”hint. Maria couldn’t put her finger on it. Between the exhausting trip home and Hugo running away, she’d had no time to reflect on their conversation.
“Did you deliver the letter?” Ian asked.
She nodded. “To her school. Yesterday.”
“You saw her?”
“Yes.”
“What school?”
“La Escuela de Nuestra Fe, in Taxco.”
