“When I met you, Lupe, I didn’t know you were tied to the woman who destroyed me. She slithered her way under my cousin’s skin, the one who runs this entire trafficking ring, and turned him against me,” Aleksandr says, and his voice scrapes through my skull like nails on a chalkboard.
“Why would she do that?” I ask, my anger rising.
Julia would never take part in something like this. Julia wouldn’t stay away from us for thirteen years just to be part of a human-trafficking ring.
Something about this story doesn’t add up, and I hate watching the doubt creep into Lupe’s eyes.
“Because I refused to take part in their operation. My uncle disinherited me, and after years of work, I was left with nothing. All because of them. Because they conspired against me. I can’t go back to Russia,rybka. I can’t go home. The order’s already been given. I’m dead the second I land.”
I reach between the seats to squeeze my sister’s hand, trying to signal to her that something isn’t right.
Yes, I see the pictures, but there’s an explanation. There has to be an explanation.
Why hasn’t he told us any of this until now?
“Swear to me you’re not lying. Swear to me they’re threatening your life,” Lupe says firmly.
Without hesitation, without taking his eyes off Lupe, he answers.
“I swear they want me dead,rybka. In fact, if you want, I can show you the spot where your sister shot me. I almost didn’t make it, but I got lucky with Pavel, my right hand. He called for medical help fast.”
And for the first time, it doesn’t feel like he’s hiding something. I actually believe they want him dead, and some of the fire from earlier dims.
What have you done, Julia?
I pick up a picture of her and study her features, hardened by the passing years and by something I can’t quite put a name to. Like a weight that settled into her soul and now reflects in her eyes.
For the love of Thales, what kind of day is this?
It feels like I’ve stumbled into a nightmare where every door I open leads to a version worse than the last.
We pull up to a colonial house on the outskirts of the city and get out. Alek and Lupe stand by the car, deep in conversation.
A conversation that ends with my sister nodding at whatever her boyfriend has said to her.
I still get a bad feeling when I look at this man.
He carries a black aura.
“Lupe,no me gusta,” I tell her once we’re alone.
“Me neither.”
She walks into the living room, where every piece of furniture is draped in a white sheet, and I run my palms up and down my forearms, trying to settle the unease drumming inside my chest.
Alek is talking with a man who I think he called Pavel in a corner, and I find myself staring out the window at how many men are patrolling the property.
“Why are there so many men with guns out in the yard?” I ask Alek, and I can tell I’ve hit a nerve.
“Because I’m not going to risk being shot in the back again, Amalia.”
At least he sounds sincere this time.
I turn back to the window, where I watch a car pull up and more men climb out, fully armed, weapons in plain view.
“¡Ay, Diosito!” slips out before I can stop it, and Alek is at my side in an instant.
The sound of gunfire starts cracking from outside, mixed with the shouts of men scrambling to mobilize.
