THE knock on the door had Aurora grumbling from her sleep. She'd tossed and turned through the night, soaked the pristine white bedspread with her tears and sweat, as she prayed for her child's and sister's safety, before finally shutting her eyes in sleep about an hour and a half ago.
She appeared in the wedge between the door frame and the door, and it looked to her early morning visitor like she was depending on it for support. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her face was pale, bringing into stark contrast a sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks that he hadn't noticed before.
"Aurora," Mariano tilted his chin up, looking down his nose as he examined her. It sounded like an order more than a greeting. The patronizing pinch of his eyebrows also didn't look too inviting.
She tried to mimic the look he was giving but all six-three chiseled angles and ruthless sex appeal of him halted the reaction. He was wrapped in a crisp black dress shirt rolled to the elbows, exposing forearms that were corded with veins and muscles.
She blinked. "What are you doing here?"
"Are you okay?"
She gave an affirmative nod, but he didn't believe her.
"You look all . . ." He gestured toward her face. "Did you by any chance get any sleep?"
Her brows furrowed as she recalled the few moments she got in. She didn't deserve it, talk less of a full night's rest. Certainly not after all she'd done. She brought this upon her family. Every wrong decision she'd made starting from accidentally spilling a cup of coffee on Maximo after a rigorous all-night shift at his LA hotel, to accepting his proposal of marriage, sleeping with a random stranger, and then marrying the father, got her to this point right now. Her child, who she hadn't seen in the last five years, and kid sister were both missing and she'd done absolutely nothing about finding them both.
"I only asked if you got any sleep in but I can practically hear you overthinking," Mariano grumbled. "Look, I know you're upset," he started, his tone guarded like he was entering a negotiation with an undomesticated honey badger.
She cut him off shakily, surprised by her own assertiveness. "Upset? I'm upset about a lot of things. My marriage to your father, about the brutal murder of my cat and Maria. . . . I can go on, and on. It's really a lot, to be honest. But my sister's kidnapping isn't upsetting, it's devastating. So, to answer your question, I didn't sleep a wink till about an hour ago. Why are you here?"
"The earlier we get looking for this disk, the sooner we get back to our lives. Take a shower, get dressed, and join me downstairs in thirty minutes."
She pressed her fingers to her eye sockets, drawing a ragged breath. "Isn't it easier to wait till Max comes around today and ask where he hid it? Besides, he kept his business hidden from me. I have no idea where he would hide something like that because I never felt the need to. With your father I always stayed in my place, respecting boundaries. Besides, I don't think it's safe going back to that house alone. . . . the . . . .the bodies. . . . since I wasn't allowed to inform the cops of the attack, I'm almost certain Maria's body, and God knows what else would be laying there." She sighed. "Laura's involved, I'm confident Maximo would be open for negotiations. I suggest we wait till he's more stable today, then. . ."
"I'm afraid that option is off the table." He paused. "Maximo died a little over three hours ago. I'm sorry for your loss." He delivered the news flatly, keeping his face blank.
His words soaked into her like poison, spreading slowly and lethally. They hit her somewhere deep, in that tight ball of angst she kept lodged in her belly. Her son, she thought. What about her son?
Her knees buckled, and the air slammed against the back of her throat, refusing to make its way into her lungs. She whizzed as her world crumbled before her eyes. Very fast. She could feel an anxiety attack coming on. The last time she'd experienced one was at her father's deathbed at the age of sixteen.
Mariano raised a worried brow, resisting the urge to erase the space between them and hold her.
"What. . . what about my baby?" The words finally stumbled out of her mouth, clunky and weightless. She glanced at him expectantly, eyes filled with unshed tears.
"Mariano," her voice cracked as she stretched out her hands like she was about to receive something. "He. . . took him from me. He's just a baby. Where is he? You must give him back."
"What are you....?" A confused Mariano trailed off as Aurora left her position by the door to begin staggering toward the direction of the in-house clinic. "Aurora!" he called after her, but there was no response.
As she moved, one sluggishly dazed step after another, the world wheeled around her. She didn't care. She staggered towards the steps, sick and faint.
She opened her mouth to scream, to yell a negation, an utter negation of what was happening, but instead, there was a black mist rolling in, like a diesel train rushing up to her. Her legs collapsed and suddenly she was pitched head forward into total darkness.
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