“He should have finished you off.” Rafael looked at me pointedly as he stitched up the gash on Damian’s head.
“He was taking me to see MaMaLu.” If Damian died, I knew I was in bigger trouble with Rafael. I didn’t know who he was or how they were connected, but I needed to find a way to keep afloat. The one thing I had going for me was the call I’d made to my father. He knew I was alive, and satellite phones use GPS. It wouldn’t take long to trace the number and narrow down the search area.
“Damian was taking you to Paza del Mar?” Rafael’s brows shot up. “He never takes anyone to see her.”
“You know MaMaLu?” I asked. At least I knew where she was now.
“I’ve known Damian since he was twelve. We grew up together. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.”
“So if something happens to him . . . if he dies . . . you’ll keep his promise? You’ll take me to MaMaLu?”
Rafael finished stitching Damian up before replying. “Do I look like your chauffer?” He took a step towards me. “Your butler?” Another step. “Your fucking concierge?” He spat down at me. “You don’t give a shit about Damian or MaMaLu. So don’t pretend you want to see MaMaLu when all you’re trying to do is save your own ass. You live in your high and mighty castle with your high and mighty head in the clouds. The only person you look out for is you, because you’re nothing but a spoiled brat. Well, guess what?” He pulled out his gun and held it to my temple. “I’m not going to let Damian take the fall. He might have gone soft on you, but your luck just ran out, Ms. Skye and Mighty Sedgewick. We’re going to end this. Right now.” He nudged me towards the door.
“But, I—” My eyes drifted to Damian. He was lost in uneasy sleep.
“He can’t save you now, princess,” said Rafael. “March. Out back.”
We walked through the wraparound verandah, past the coconut palms and into the jungle.
“Stop. Right here,” said Rafael, when we came to a small clearing.
I was facing away from him, looking down at my shadow on the sandy mound. It was long and thin in the setting sun. Rafael stepped behind me. Together we looked like long-limbed aliens, with one ready to zap the other into another galaxy.
It was almost a relief, to let go, to resign, to accept. Hope is a hollow backbone. It can’t always carry the weight of reality. And I was tired of propping it up. I was tired of mending it each time it snapped. You can only cheat death so many times; you can only fight so long, so hard.
“Just one thing before you shoot, Rafael.” I turned around and looked him in the eye. “I need to know. Tell me what happened to Esteban. Tell me how he ended up as Damian.”
THE FIRST TIME ESTEBAN SAW Skye, it was through a set of wooden bars. He didn’t know whether they were there to keep her in, like the dangerous animals at the zoo, or to keep him out, like the display windows he pressed his nose against when he went to the big city with MaMaLu.
“Why is she in a cage?” he asked.
“It’s not a cage.” MaMaLu laughed.
“It’s a crib,” said Adriana Sedgwick. She was the baby’s mother, and she looked like she had stepped out of the glossy magazines she read.
Esteban was four years old. He had never seen a crib. He slept with MaMaLu, in a small room in the staff wing. He liked it much better than when they’d stayed with MaMaLu’s brother, Fernando. Some days Fernando came home drunk to find MaMaLu had locked him out. Those nights, he yelled and cursed and banged on the door. Other times, he bought them elote, boiled corn on the cob, and rowed them out to sea in his panga. Esteban could never tell what kind of day it was going to be, so he’d constantly walked on eggshells around his uncle.
One evening, Fernando brought home a friend.
“Come, Esteban.” He waved the boy over. “Say hello to my buddy, Victor Madera.”
Just then, MaMaLu came in and Victor Madera’s gaze was quickly averted. “And this is . . . ?” he asked.
“My sister, Maria Luisa,” replied Fernando.
Victor couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He had heard about Maria Luisa. It was his business to keep track of everyone and everything. Fernando had told him things about her that he should probably have kept to himself, but when a man has a weakness, be it gambling or alcohol or women, you can always get him to talk.
“Fernando tells me you’re looking for a job,” said Victor.
“I am,” she replied. Her dress was stretched tight across her bosom
“I might have something for you.” Victor wanted nothing more than to see her naked.
That night, he went to Adriana Sedgewick, and told her that he had found her a nanny.
“Tell her to come see me tomorrow for an interview,” she said.