Page 63 of Read With Your Heart

“He’s going to kill me,” she chokes out between sobs. “He’s going to kill him.”

“Who, honey? Who?” My heart leaps to my throat, and I can’t catch my breath. I haven’t felt like this since . . . and I don’t ever want to feel that way again.

“Leon. When he finds out, he’s going to be so pissed.” Lena cries harder and then almost laughs, a bitter, frightening maniacal laugh. “Pissed? That’s not even the word. He’ll kill us both.”

“Oh my God, Lena, you’re scaring me. Nobody is going to kill anyone. Just call Leon.” He hasn’t returned any of my text messages, but maybe he’ll answer his sister. His phone isn’t modern. It’s more old-school, a kind of pay-as-you-go thing, and it had never occurred to me before that maybe he did that on purpose. He didn’t want his name on my lease. He paid cash for everything. He was set up so he could disappear.

I feel nauseous.

“Lena, listen to me. Text Leon. Trust me. He cares about you. He loves you. You’re his sister. He won’t hurt you.”

“This . . .” Lena gasps around another sob. “This will break him.” Her voice goes eerily quiet, and I hold my breath, waiting on more.

“Lena,” I command. “Tell me what happened.”

“I’m pregnant.” She blubbers through the line, and I race for the toilet, still holding Lys’s phone. No, God, no. Collapsing to my knees, I have nothing to dispel, but my body lurches and heaves. My hand falls to my belly as my own tears fall, remembering.

A baby.

Trent didn’t want the baby.

“Lena,” I groan. “Listen to me. Get to Leon. He’s going to protect you. He’ll help you.”

“He’ll hate me,” she says between another gulping sob.

“He won’t. Why would you say that?” I plead, concerned she believes her brother won’t help and concerned her brother might actually be furious beyond calming.

“I’m the filler child, did you know that, Tricia? They had me to replace Israel. They wanted me to fix them, and this . . . this will crush my parents. There’s a reason I was born on the Day of the Dead. I was their angel. His angel.” November 1. She left on her birthday, when she turned eighteen.

She cries again, and my heart rips in half. It isn’t true—it just can’t be. No parent can predict the exact date of a birth, but the coincidence chills me.

“Honey, that can’t be true.”

“It is!” she yells.

“Who’s the father, Lena? Tell me.” Was it someone from here? How far along is she? Is it a kid I know? I’ll kill him myself, although I don’t mean it. “Lena.”

“His name is Hector Ortiz. He’s from here.”

Lys’s words return to me. She doesn’t have a boy. He’s a man.

“Who is he, honey? You can tell me,” I whisper, uncertainty riddling me before I even hear her answer.

“He . . . he . . . he killed our brother.”

Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. She’s right. Leon will never forgive her. “Lena, come back. Come back to Elk Lake City.” Come back to me, I want to yell. “I’ll protect you. I’ll keep you safe.” Just don’t hurt the baby.

“I can’t. I don’t have any money,” she cries harder, and I feel so helpless. Leon won’t answer my calls. Lena is stranded somewhere, and most importantly, she’s pregnant with a baby from a man who had no business being near her.

“Where are you now?” I question, hoping she’ll at least give me that.

“At a park.” She tells me the name. It’s at least six hours to Chicago from upper Michigan.

“Is there somewhere you can go for the night? A friend? Your old apartment?” I question because she can’t stay at the park.

“I’m scared, Tricia. What am I going to do?” The sobs start in earnest again, and my heart breaks.

“Lena, I’m going to come to you.” Damn Leon and his damn stubbornness to refuse help. “I’ll get to you somehow.” I wish I could see her through the phone. I wish I could hold her and reassure her. I’ll help you.