He was still arguing with her confusedly as she dragged him out of the dining room, the dog exiting with them, the last of the strudel clenched between her jaws.
Ildefanso’s arm went back around her chair. He pushed her plate closer to her. “You need to eat,belleza.”
The words processed, but she was so tired, she couldn’t even summon the energy to answer. Between the tension with Ildefanso, the pain of being back home, the hike to the summit, and their conversation with God, she’d hit her maximum bandwidth. Something had to give.
“Please,” he begged. “I know you’re angry with me. You have every right to be, but you’re going to need your strength. We don’t exactly eat on regular hours, and sometimes we go longer than usual between meals.”
What he said made sense. She turned to look back at her plate and reached for the sandwich. It felt as if she were moving through a pool of water up to her neck.
“Can you forgive me,angel?”
Listlessly, she picked at the sandwich, tearing off pieces and putting them in her mouth. It tasted like ash. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
“There’s much that needs forgiving.”
“Even if it were true, it’s too late now.”
His head snapped toward the door, and he gestured to her pocket. He wanted her to put the comm back in. As she complied, she came into the middle of a conversation. Nemo was speaking. “—on your phones as we speak.”
Steel pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and pulled up a secure text chain. “Madre de Dios!”
On the screen was a photo of an older man, looking to be in his sixties. His face had a hawklike visage, with dark hair cut tight to his head, the hairline receding and turning gray.
“He’s got company. A guy I don’t recognize.” Another photo came through. This was a younger man, fairly nondescript. Caucasian. Bundled up for cold weather, sunglasses on, and all they could really see was his nose, cheeks, and part of his mouth. No distinguishing marks and unremarkable features. He could be anyone.
“I’d say we’re in the right place,” God replied.
Studying the photo, she murmured, “He looks familiar.”
Steel pushed the phone closer to her on the table. “Which one?”
Several voices started speaking over one another on the comms, but she barely heard them. “The older man. If it’s him, he’s much older than I remember. It was a long time ago.” She looked up at Steel. “I’m pretty certain he visited my father on several occasions. It was before our marriage.”
“Do you know his name?” Steel asked her.
His face was blank, but there was something behind Ildefanso’seyes. Like he knew the man and was searching to see what she knew. It was a cold and cruel look, and one she’d seen on his face often when working for his family. She felt very lucky to know it had never been aimed at her.
“His first name was Eli, I think.” She shook her head. “No, that’s not right, but something similar. I don’t remember. We were never introduced. I saw him once or twice in my father’s office and once at a party. The president was there, and a bunch of other dignitaries. I think he wore a military uniform when I saw him.”
“Elliott Howard,” Steel offered. “Does that name sound familiar to you?”
She raised her head and nodded at him. “Yes, that’s it.”
“This is important, Daleyza.” His hand grabbed hers, where it sat on the table. “Think. Do you remember what the event was?”
Trying to concentrate, she removed her fingers to massage her temples, as if the motion would make the thoughts clearer. She’d been fairly young. Sixteen? There’d been dancing, she remembered that, and fancy food that she hadn’t enjoyed. After the party, herabuelahad brought her somechoripánanddulce de leche, two of her favorite foods.
“I’m sorry,” she said finally. “I don’t remember. I do know it wasn’t long after myquinceañerabecause I insisted on wearing my same dress. It made me feel like a fairy princess.”
“I didn’t think Argentinians didquinceañerasanymore,” TB said.
“They don’t, as a rule. But my family is very old-fashioned. Traditions like that would have been a signal of our family’s wealth and privilege.”
“Hence the arranged marriage,” Steel said.
“With my brother now in charge, it’s impossible to say which traditions he keeps anymore, not that things like a girl’s party matter in your current situation.”
“No,” God agreed, “but it does give us insight into how mired in tradition he is. That, actually, can tell us quite a lot about how he will react, security measures, things like that.”
