Misplaced (23 page)

“¿M
i
Mamà?
”
V
i
c
t
or
i
a
as
ke
d
,
he
r
voic
e
q
u
i
v
eri
n
g
wi
th
hysteria.
“My
mother
is
Estima
Duarte
de
Barrón,
and
because
of me…” She had been too distraught to explain further.
A few hours later she saw Elias for the first
time, composed
and
seated
behind
a
thick
sheet
of
glass.
“The
little
one,
that’s
her!”
he
exclaimed,
jumping
up
and
pushing
against
the
glass
with both hands.

Th
e
officer
,
wh
o
ha
d
almos
t
bee
n
foole
d
onc
e
b
y
th
e
woman
claimin
g
t
o
b
e
V
ictoria’
s
mother
,
asked
,
“D
o
yo
u
ha
v
e
any
proo
f
?”
From
inside
the
holding
area
the
officer held
her
chin
up
,
examinin
g
he
r
fac
e
a
s
thoug
h
sh
e
w
er
e
a
priz
e
calf
.
“The
federales
claim
her
father
ran
a
smuggling
ring.
Apparently
they
ha
v
e
a
lo
t
o
f
informatio
n
o
n
him—hi
s
wife
,
also
.
Y
ou
r
nam
e
i
s
mentione
d
i
n
thei
r
reports
,
whic
h
i
s
ho
w
w
e
w
er
e
abl
e
to
contac
t
you
.
Luckily
,
yo
u
w
eren’
t
linke
d
t
o
an
y
criminal
activities.”

A
tea
r
ra
n
dow
n
Elias’
s
chee
k
a
s
h
e
remo
v
e
d
a
photo
fro
m
hi
s
jacke
t
pocket
,
placin
g
i
t
agains
t
th
e
glas
s
fo
r
hi
m
to
see
.
“Thes
e
ar
e
he
r
parents
.
Loo
k
a
t
he
r
e
y
es
,
he
r
nose
.
This
i
s
th
e
firs
t
tim
e
I’
v
e
lai
d
e
y
e
s
o
n
her
,
bu
t
nonetheles
s
sh
e
is
unmistakably a Barrón, wouldn’t you agree?”

“E
v
erything
happens
for
a
reason,”
Marta
would
say
o
v
er
an
d
o
v
e
r
a
s
sh
e
sa
t
u
p
wit
h
he
r
durin
g
thos
e
firs
t
grief-filled
nights.
“
Y
ou
must
not
lose
faith,
V
ictoria.
Try
to
be
happy.
Li
v
e
a
good
life
and,
who
knows,
the
ans
w
ers
may
come
one
day.”
Removing
a
small,
golden
cross
from
around
her
neck,
Marta
presse
d
i
t
int
o
V
ictoria’
s
palm
.
Sh
e
woul
d
al
w
ay
s
remembe
r
the
softnes
s
an
d
w
armt
h
o
f
tha
t
hand
.
“Thi
s
ha
s
al
w
ay
s
brough
t
me
comfo
rt
,
”
M
a
r
t
a
h
a
d
t
o
l
d
h
e
r
sim
p
l
y
.
“
I
h
o
p
e
i
t
w
i
l
l
d
o
th
e
sam
e
for you.”

More
than
t
w
enty
y
ears
later,
V
ictoria
w
as
still
w
aiting
for
resolution
,
fo
r
he
r
mothe
r
t
o
magicall
y
appear
.
Mayb
e
there
w
a
s
a
n
ans
w
e
r
fo
r
Khara
,
too—wh
y
ha
d
fat
e
see
n
fi
t
t
o
drop
this woman on her doorstep?

“
Y
o
u
coul
d
choos
e
t
o
stay,
”
V
ictori
a
o
f
fered
,
following
Khara to the patio.

Khar
a
stare
d
a
t
th
e
pin
k
an
d
orang
e
streak
s
o
f
sunset.
W
ithou
t
turning
,
sh
e
asked
,
“Lea
v
e
Egyp
t
t
o
Menefra
?
Abandon
th
e
wishe
s
o
f
m
y
father
?
Ther
e
wil
l
no
t
b
e
a
moment’
s
peac
e
for
me until I return.”

“What
if
it’s
not
possible
to
get
you
back?”
V
ictoria’s
voice
cracked
.
“
I
hop
e
yo
u
understan
d
that’
s
th
e
mos
t
likel
y
scenario.
An
d
ha
v
e
yo
u
considere
d
tha
t
i
f
w
e
manage
d
t
o
wor
k
a
miracle
an
d
retur
n
you
,
you
r
siste
r
i
s
probabl
y
w
aitin
g
t
o
finis
h
you
off?”

“What’
s
a
‘miracle’?
”
Jus
t
lik
e
tha
t
,
sh
e
ruine
d
V
ictoria’s
concentration.
“Something
w
e
’
re going to need lots of, I’m afraid.”