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SOFIA
Against my better judgment, I agree to see Joaquín, but only because he’s Mateo’s father. I can’t think of a single other reason to waste a couple of hours I’ll never get back. Nico is upset about it, but he’s keeping his thoughts to himself and letting me decide on my own how to handle Joaquín’s request, which I deeply appreciate.
Elena set me up with an attorney she knows to go in with me. I’m due to meet him outside the city jail at ten, and when I’m ready to go, I find Nico in the room he uses as an office, working on his laptop.
“I’m, ah, going now. I’ll be back right after.”
“Okay,” he says, giving me a wary glance. “Drive carefully.”
“I will.” I start to walk away, but I can’t leave it this way with him. “Nico.”
He looks up again, his expression guarded.
“I’m sorry you’re upset that I’m doing this.”
“I’ll be fine if you are. Be careful, Sofia. I’m worried this is a setup.”
“They know by now how much trouble they’re in. They’d be crazy to add to it.”
He has nothing to say to that.
“I’ll be careful. I promise. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I hate the tension that’s arisen between us over the last few days, since I decided I’d see Joaquín before we leave on our trip tomorrow. Today was the soonest we could make it happen, so Nico and I have had to sit in this uncomfortable place while we worked and took care of Mateo and visited Milo. His mom is in her last week of treatment for breast cancer, so I made dinner for his parents yesterday, and we took it there while Mateo was at school.
Nico disappeared into the office with his mother for half an hour while I talked to his dad. After they came out, he wouldn’t tell me what they talked about, which has only added to my stress.
He said we’d talk about it after Minnesota.
Because it’s winter there, I had to buy some warmer clothes and coats for Mateo and me, which was not in my budget. Everything feels so unsettled, and my stomach hurts most of the time when I think about seeing Joaquín, flying to Minnesota, seeing my father for the first time, meeting my half siblings…
Not to mention all the complicated feelings I have for Nico and worrying about Milo. It’s no wonder my head is spinning.
A few weeks ago, I heard Dee use that expression and asked her what it meant. Now it’s one of my favorites. My head spins a lot.
I park at the city jail on Northwest 13th Street, use an app on my phone to pay for parking and meet with William, the attorney Elena hooked me up with who’s going in with me. She thought it would help me to navigate the jail to go with someone who knows his way around.
He shakes my hand. “Nice to meet you. Right this way.”
By the time we’re seated in a waiting room, my hands are trembling from the experience of entering the jail, producing identification, walking through a series of locked doors and ending up in a room right out of a movie, with seats in front of glass with old-style phones to use for talking to the prisoner.
William stands about six feet from me by the door, there if I need him.
We wait ten minutes before Joaquín appears, wearing an orange jumpsuit. His hands and feet are shackled. He looks pale and possibly scared as he waits for the guard to unlock his hands. The dark hair that’s usually kept stylish with pomade is a greasy mess, as if he’s been pulling on it and hasn’t showered for days.
When he sits in the chair and reaches for the phone, I do the same, nearly dropping it because I’m so nervous. He speaks to me in Spanish. “No estaba seguro de que vendrías.” I wasn’t sure you’d come.
“Vine por Mateo.” I came for Mateo.
“You need to tell them it wasn’t me, that I never could’ve done something like this.”
I’m stunned that he would say that. “They have video.”
“They can’t see who was in the car, just that it was Diego’s car. They can’t prove I was in the car.”
“You shot an innocent young man.”
