Mateo appeared at her side, solid and quiet. His gaze flicked to her face. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
He held her eyes a beat longer then looked toward the house. “Where to first?”
“The courtyard,” she said, hesitating as she took in the branching hallways and the doors that opened off the foyer. “This place is the size of a palace. We either followed a servant or Rhy… uh, Mr. Blackwood, who seemed to know where he was going, led the way.”
“Sounds like Mr. Blackwood,” he said drily.
“Do you know which way it is?”
Mateo followed her gaze, cataloging angles and exits. “No clue. Leland and I were assigned less opulent quarters out back. I explored the grounds then grabbed some shuteye while he took first watch.”
Gaby frowned, trying to get her bearings. “We didn’t pass it on our way here. Rhys must have gone a different route than last night. We’ll have to ask someone.”
“Who?” he said, turning in a circle. They were alone. No staff or guests in sight. His gaze settled on a sun-drenched corridor. “East is that way. We should start there.”
She nodded, determined. “Let’s find my sister.”
***
Ten minutes later, after locating the kitchen and several short halls that led nowhere, the air changed, becoming warmer and heavier. Soap and clean cotton replaced the scent of salt air and the last traces of breakfast.
Mateo slowed. “Laundry.”
Gaby nodded. “This must be the service corridor.”
“Which means we’re no closer to where we want to be.”
They turned back and nearly collided with a middle-aged man and woman in crisp uniforms, both moving with the careful efficiency of people who knew they were always being watched.
Their expressions changed upon seeing Gaby. Not alarmed, but cautious.
Mateo moved slightly ahead of her and addressed them in Spanish, his tone calm yet authoritative.
The man nodded once, gesturing as he replied rapidly. Gaby regretted not having paid more attention to learning her ancestral language in school.
“Gracias,” Mateo said, one of the few words she knew. Then he took her arm and guided her forward.
Once they were out of earshot, Gaby leaned closer. “What did you say to them?”
“The truth. We were lost and trying to find our way back to the courtyard.”
Gaby shot him a look. “Smooth.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “I’m not just a pretty face, if you hadn’t figured that out by now.” Then, more seriously, “Come on. Before we attract the wrong kind of attention.”
After four turns and a half flight of stairs she knew she had never taken, they emerged onto a covered walkway on the perimeter of the courtyard. At first glance, the wide, sunlit space seemed serene: pale stone, tropical greenery, a fountain burbling softly at its center. But the calm felt staged, the plants and short palms arranged to conceal the iron gate on the far side.
“How should we approach this?” she whispered.
“Like you were invited by Mr. Álvarez, which you were.”
His fingers closed around her upper arm, as expected from an escort. The brief squeeze that followed was for her alone.They moved forward along the center path, bold and unhurried, as if this were exactly where they belonged.
A single guard stood watch, posture relaxed, rifle slung low. He glanced at them, his expression bored rather than suspicious.
“Ella está aquí para el desayuno,”Mateo said casually.
