“Why would he be there?”
“Some thieves beat him up, so he got off the train.”
“When?”
“Two days ago.”
“He could be long gone by now.”
“I have to find out.”
He stared down at her, his expression inscrutable.
“Please,” she murmured.
For a moment, she thought he was going to refuse. He raked a hand through his hair, swearing under his breath. “This is insane.”
“No more insane than you looking for Sarai.”
“That’s my job.”
“And he is my brother. My family.”
“You think I don’t understand that? I never had a real family, so I don’t know how it feels to love someone or worry about them.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, reluctant to argue. “I think that you are feverish. Maybe you should stay here.”
He scowled at this suggestion, seeming insulted. He grabbed the backpack and accompanied her through the station. Outside, he hailed a cab. They climbed in together. The cargo station was near the coast, according to the driver.
Mazatlán was a beautiful city. It was a balmy evening, thick with promise. Some of her tension drained away as she watched the palm trees sway in the breeze. She lifted her hair off the nape of her neck, enjoying the humid air on her skin. She wished she was here on a tropical vacation. She’d never been on a tropical vacation. Or any other kind of vacation.
“Tell me about this Juan Diego.”
She twisted her hair into a knot, glancing at him. He was slouching in the seat with his legs spread wide and one arm draped across his belly. She could tell that he was curious, but also half-joking. “You are a jealous man.”
“I am,” he agreed, without shame.
“Juan Diego is a boy from my village. We dated for two years.”
“Did he kiss you?”
She smiled at the question, fluttering her lashes. They’d held hands on the way home from school, and he’d stolen a few kisses, but it was nothing like what she’d shared with Ian.
“Why did you break up?”
“I left,” she said, looking away.
“He didn’t come after you?”
“No. He told me he would. Then I wrote to him about what happened at the border, because I thought he should know. He never wrote back. A month later, he married someone else.”
“He sounds like a fool.”
“What teenage boy is not?”
Ian conceded her point. “Why did you mention him on the phone?”
“No reason.”
