“No, not really. These are her memories.”
I turned away from a box I was just about to open to stare at the middle-aged woman. She looked tired, deflated, and just sad.
“Scout never wants to talk about her past,” I said lamely. Nalida perked up and nodded.
“Maybe some of these boxes will provide some insight. Here, this one, I think, has photos.”
She marchedtowarda box and opened it, pulling out albums. She handed one to me and one to Gianni. He took it with a confused look but then opened itanywayand began looking through it.
“Lemme see that whole box. I said and plopped down on the concrete. She had a dozen or so large photo albums, all completely full.
“I didn’t know she liked taking pictures.”
“Oh yes. When we were traveling through Mexico,” she put her hand on one of the pages I was looking at. The photos were of Scout and a much younger Nalida, dressed in hiking gear and grinning at the camera. “She took so many photos. She had bags full of film that she’d have to mail to my boyfriend back home.” She laughed. “She wanted to remember every moment. Every little thing we did, there’s a picture for.”
It warmed my barely-beating heart, looking at Scout happy. She was grinning ear to ear in all of these albums. When I met her for the second time, she barely smiled. What had happened?
“Looks like you ladies had a lot of fun in your younger years,” Gianni said.
“So much fun. I know it was kind of crazy to run off with a vampire to Mexico for a few years, but Scout always kept me safe. I felt comfortable with her.”
I found a photo of Scout holding a massive black and red bird. “Is that who the cage was for?” I nodded to the metal cage in the corner.
Nalida looked at the photo and smiled. “Alfie. Yes, that was her pet bird. She found him in Mexico and brought him back with us. She loved him so much.”
“What happened?”
Her face fell, and she gave me a tight smile. “He was an old bird when she bought him. One day he went to bed and never woke up. She left shortly after he passed away.”
“Was that the last time you saw her?”
She nodded. “Scout acts hard and tough, but Alfie’s passing really hit her hard. And when things get hard, she runs.”
A chill went through me. Nalida didn’t know how true that was.
“What else is in here?” I asked brightly, setting the last album back in the box and standing.
“Well, there’s souvenirs from Mexico, some of her art, some diaries from her childhood, and from Mexico.”
“What exactly were you doing there?” Gianni asked suddenly. For the most part, he’d been pretty quiet. Only speaking when directly spoken to.
“Looking for her family. When we were growing up, Scout never seemed to care much about them. Or if she did, she didn’t tell anyone. We were all without families.” She shrugged. “But then one day she knocked on my door, a vampire, and asked me to go find them with her.”
“And you did.” I smiled.
Nalida grew silent for a long moment, debating whether to tell us about something. “Have you ever heard of Magdalena Solís?”
“No,” I said.
“Yes,” Gianni said, kicking off the wall he’d been leaning against and stepping forward with interest. “Is she related to her?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who is this, Magdalena?”
“The High Priestess of Blood,” she said and then crossed herself.
I blinked. Nalida stared at me as if I should know that. Gianni sighed.
