20
DANIELA
I sleep.
For a few hours, I sleep in a guestroom in the main house.I didn’t want to go to my mother-in-law suite.Not when so much is going on.I wanted to be close to Vinnie and Raven.
Close to Belinda.
I would have slept in her bed if the cops hadn’t asked us not to disturb anything.
I wake to light and an ache behind my eyes.For one suspended heartbeat I don’t remember, and then everything lands—Belinda, the note, the grainy video, the Chef from Colombia with somebody else’s name.
And Hawk.
Who I haven’t heard from.
I wipe the thought from my mind.
Too much else to think about.I’m on my feet before the blanket finishes slipping off.Down the hall, down the stairs.I aim for Vinnie’s office when Raven steps out of the kitchen and blocks me with a shake of her head.
“Vinnie’s locked in,” she says.“He started two hours ago.Colombia files, travel manifests, staff rosters from your father’s estate.He left instructions.Unless it’s Belinda or a fire, he’s not to be disturbed.”
“Then I’ll start working on my own,” I say, moving left, but she slides with me.
“Not yet,” she says.“You and I are going to the courthouse.We’re going to talk to the judge who handled the dissolution of your marriage to Vinnie.Or we’re going to find the local DHS office.We’re going to figure this out.”
My mouth goes dry.“Raven?—”
“You can’t help Belinda from Bogotá,” she says, voice low and even.“We handle this now.Then we come back and you can tear the walls down.”
I press my fingers to the bridge of my nose and count to five.“Fine,” I say.“Five minutes.”
“Perfect.And grab those papers Officer Patel gave you.We need to show them everything.”
I splash water on my face, change my shirt, brush my hair.The mirror shows a woman I recognize and don’t—eyes swollen at the edges, jaw set, a line of determination cutting through exhaustion.
Move,I say to myself.Solve one thing so you can solve the next.
Raven drives while I scroll through photos of Belinda I don’t need to see to remember.At a stoplight, I text Hawk:Going downtown with Raven.TPS mess.Call if anything breaks.
Three dots pulse, disappear.Nothing.
We arrive at the courthouse, and my pulse starts to hammer.
The last time I was here, I was nearly killed by a grenade hiding in a teddy bear.
Breathe in, out, in.
I’ve been through worse.I can get through this.
We don’t wait at a window.Raven walks us straight to the clerk’s office with the kind of stride that assumes compliance and usually gets it.“Judge Bernadette Matthews, please.”
“Is she expecting you?”the clerk asks.
“She will be in ten seconds,” Raven says, already handing over a card.“I’m Raven Bellamy and this is Daniela Agudelo.”
The clerk eyes it and then stands.“Just a moment, please.”
