Chapter 22
Sarai held Hugo’s hand and watched the sun come up over the bay.
The train left Empalme and headed away from the coast, into the Sonoran Desert. By noon it was too hot to wear her sweatshirt. She removed it and put the fabric under her bottom, which didn’t have enough padding to protect her from the hard metal grate. Neither did his, so she shared half. He gave her his wolf-pup smile, seeming content just to sit next to her.
They’d been traveling together for two days. He hadn’t left her side since they’d met in Mazatlán. Although she definitely felt safer with him, her boy-disguise had been compromised. Boys didn’t kiss other boys on the riverbank, or hold hands in public. They didn’t do it without attracting negative attention, anyway.
Now that the other passengers knew she was a girl, there were more eyes on her. There were more eyes on Hugo too, assessing his strength. Women were rare on La Bestia. Young women traveled with a male relative, or not at all. She worried that someone would challenge Hugo for her company. Multiple someones might decide to throw him off the train.
Her phone chirped in her pocket, indicating that it was done charging. She’d bought a wireless charger at the last stop. She was reluctant to check her messages in front of the other passengers, however. No one else had a phone. They were a more precious commodity than women. Using it openly would be like waving a red flag in a bullpen.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” she said.
“I’ll come with you.”
They moved across the surface of the railcar with caution, staying low. Then she climbed down the ladder with him. There was another metal grate at the bottom where she could squat to pee without exposing herself to the other passengers.
Hugo stood with his back to her, not looking. It was embarrassing and dangerous. She held the ladder with one hand and watched the railroad ties rush by underneath the grate. After she finished, he took his turn. He unbuttoned his pants and directed his stream toward the tracks, where it hissed on impact.
Boys.
She checked her phone and found a new voicemail from an unknown number. She listened to it, her heart racing.
“M’ija.It’s your papá. I just wanted to say that I got your last message. I love you too. But we should talk in person, not on Facebook. Call me back at this number.”
I love you too? She hadn’t said that on Facebook or anywhere else. With a frown, she attempted to dial the number, but she didn’t have good enough reception. She might have better luck on the surface of the railcar, or in another area.
Curious, she checked Facebook. There was a series of messages from him:
I was unconscious for a few days, but I’m okay now…
Her vision blurred with tears as she continued reading.
I asked Tía M to deliver the letter, not to follow you. Is she alone? If you see a man with her, describe him to me.
And this, from yesterday:
Where are you? I can meet you in Benjamín Hill, where the tracks fork. Get off the train and wait for me at the station. I love you. Don’t worry.
She stared at those words, swallowing past the lump in her throat. It wasn’t like him to get sentimental, but the strangest part was the last bit. He’d trained her to stay on high alert. Guarded was his default setting. Telling her not to worry wasn’t his style. At all.
His voicemail had sounded strained, also. Something was off. She scrolled through her IMs to make sure she hadn’t said anything mushy in her last communication. There were no “I love yous” in their exchanges. Their never had been. What she did find was an indication of a deleted text. It had been sent the night she’d been hiding in that rotten trash shoot.
“No way,” she breathed.
“What’s up?” Hugo asked.
“Hang on,” she said, glancing at her father’s page. His status said “on vacation,” with a bunch of stupid emojis. “This is not right.”
The train went over a bumpy section of track, jostling her against Hugo. The phone almost slipped out of her sweaty hand. She stuck it back into her pocket without replying. Then she followed him up the ladder. When they were seated on the surface again, she tucked her knees to her chest and clutched the edge of the metal grate. She didn’t know what to do.
Her father wanted to talk in person,noton Facebook. Was that a warning? Was his status update another clue?
“Was it bad news?” Hugo asked.
“I don’t know.”
He fell silent beside her, not pressing. He’d tried to kiss her again last night, when they were alone in the dark. She’d been tempted to take the sweet escape he offered, but she couldn’t afford to get carried away. She already felt lost and uncertain. Everything was out of her control. She was barely holding on to herself.
