Page 147 of Forbidden Fate

But that isn’t why I’m crying.

Not entirely.

Yes, I’m relieved. Yes, I’m grateful. Yes, hearing my family’s voices after thinking I might never hear them again makes me joyful.

But deep down, in the place I can’t let anyone see, I know the real reason I just broke down is because of Cruz.

The thought of never seeing him again.

The thought of him walking toward that stolen car alone.

The thought of Vega’s men finding him.

The thought of Adriana finding him.

I cry because I’m going home.

I cry because he isn’t.

I cry because I should hate him.

I cry because I don’t.

Raven keeps murmuring into the phone. “It’s okay, Robbie. I understand. We all understand.”

I let her think my reaction is tears of relief. “I can’t wait to see you,” I manage.

“We can’t wait to see you either,” Raven says.

“Hold on a little longer, okay?” From Vinnie.

I wipe my face with the ruined tissue. “Okay.”

“You’re almost home.”

Home.

Home is waiting for me. Home is where I want to be more than anywhere else in the world.

But I’m also leaving something behind.

38

CRUZ

When I was twelve years old, I asked my mother who my father was.

We were in the kitchen, late afternoon, sunlight coming through the window in dusty gold stripes. Mamá stood at the stove, stirring rice. She smelled like soap, onions, and the orange blossom lotion one of the women had given her for her birthday.

I sat at the table with homework spread in front of me, but I had not written a single answer in twenty minutes.

The question had been gnawing at me all day.

I was out on an errand for Señora, and two boys I didn’t know made fun of me, asked me which of my mother’s customers was my father.

I got into a fight.

Not a bad one. Not enough for blood. Enough that the store owner grabbed me by the collar and told me to get the fuck out of his place.