Daniel stepped closer.
“Does Mr. Walker know her address?”
“He’s never been there.”
“But could he find it?”
“Probably.”
Adrian looked at me.
“Call your cousin.”
My hands were trembling.
I pressed Marisol’s name.
She answered on the second ring.
“Elena?”
Her voice came through beneath loud kitchen noises.
Relief nearly buckled my knees.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m making enchiladas. Why are you whispering like you’ve robbed a bank?”
“Is anyone there?”
A pause.
“My husband is working late and Mateo is doing homework. Why?”
“Has Ethan contacted you?”
“No.”
“Has anyone?”
“No. Elena, you’re scaring me.”
I closed my eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“Where are you?”
“At the airport.”
“Well, come here. I changed the sheets and everything.”
My throat tightened.
Marisol and I had not been close growing up.
We exchanged Christmas messages and occasional birthday wishes.
Yet when I called her four days earlier and asked whether Lily
