Page 40 of No Merciful Corruption

Blowing through cocaine in Ibiza, partying in Thailand, gambling in Las Vegas, drinking himself into a coma in Berlin. God, I forgot how fucking annoying tracking him down used to be. Now I’m going to have to call one of our cousins to comb through his financials and that’s if there’s even a paper trail. He’s too good at covering his tracks when he really wants to.

What I can’t understand is why he would say he’s flying to New York, not show up, and then lie to me about his whereabouts for nearly a month. Is it really that he’s gone on another bender or is he hiding something from me? And if so, what?

A pair of arms come around me from behind. I feel the shy peck of a pair of lips against my cheek and spin around.

Dahlia smiles up at me but doesn’t quite meet my gaze. There’s a hint of bashfulness in her voice when she speaks. “Good morning.”

“Good morning…” I frown. “What are you doing up so early?”

“I could smell the food from upstairs. I’m starving.” She peaks over at the stove. “Can you make my eggs scrambled? I’m not in the mood for sunny side up today.”

I nod in response but my thoughts are a million miles away. Could Diego be in Puerto Rico with our mother? No…I doubt it. Mom would’ve called and told me. Or maybe he’s in Colombia with Tio Horacio, I know my uncle would cover for him if Diego didn’t want to be found whereas Tia Leticia would’ve called me the second his plane landed in Mexico. Where could he be, why did he disappear, and why is he lying? Why did he use Dahlia being in the hospital as a cover? Maybe he intended to come to New York but something changed…

Dahlia pulls away. She shifts her weight between both feet and wrings her hands until the knuckles turn white. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” I stare at the pan in front of me. I can’t bring myself to do anything else.

It could be another bender. God and if it is, what triggered him?

Dahlia sinks back against the counter and the distance between us grows. She’s wearing an oversized sweater she bought in Barcelona from a tourist shop in the Quarter. I thought forty-five euro was an obscene amount of money to pay but for some reason she fell in love with it. They only had one left and it’s two sizes too big so it hangs off one shoulder and the hem grazes her midthighs.

“Have you changed your mind?” she asks. “About last night?”

That snaps me out of it. “What?”

“Well because…if you don’t want to anymore then it’s fine I mean I know we talked about a lot and just because we slept together doesn’t mean everything is magically fixed between us especially since I asked you to move to New York which is crazy and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it for the past hour, like, I was upstairs just thinking about what I asked you to do so if you’re freaked out and think we should stop then⁠—”

“Dahlia, stop, no.” I reach forward and pull her into my arms. “Jesus Christ, take a breath.”

“Sorry, I’m panicking.” Her voice cracks and her eyes gloss over.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in such a vulnerable state before. She looks like one mild wind could topple her over. Our first morning back together and I’m already fucking it up.

“I just got off the phone with Beni. Diego disappeared a few weeks ago—he’s fine, he used to do this all the time, the problem is now we have to find him. That’s all, I promise.”

She presses her lips together and I can feel her trembling in my arms. “Are you sure?”

“I also asked Beni to send my things over. You’ll be happy to know everyone’s been placing bets on us.”

Her eyes are still glossy but a hesitant smile takes form. “What kind of bets?”

“The kind where anyone who bet money on me lost. They all guessed I’d stay here with you and they were right.”

This time she smiles completely and when she kisses me, I know I made the right decision.

CATHOLIC GUILT

Dahlia

“Look at this shit…hippies and finance bros…in Bushwick!”

Lyss laughs. “Things don’t stay the same forever, Dee.”

“Gentrification is evil. I remember when no one wanted to touch this part of the neighborhood with a ten-foot pole and now they’re trying to charge $8.50 for a gluten free bacon, egg, and cheese. It’s absolutely sick. Sick and twisted.”

Lyss throws her head back and lets out a howl of laughter that has onlookers sending concerned glances our way. She has one arm looped through mine and I hold her close as we cross the street together.

New York City is an ever-changing landscape of history and culture but every day there are fewer and fewer stores I remember. More and more neighbors being pushed out. My grandparents own their home and thank God for that because they would’ve never been able to afford it now. I rest easy knowing they’re taken care of here.