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Her brow wrinkles. “It’s not about my father.” She pauses for a few seconds. Her hands tremble as she reaches for a fresh tissue. “Raul works in the vineyards. He’s not supposed to be here. IfSenhorHuntsman knows, he’ll be fired—maybe worse.” She starts to cry again, and I squeeze her hand. “He takes care of his mother and his brothers and sisters. Working at the vineyard pays well.”
I can’t believe I’ve pushed her to tears.If it weren’t for Valentina and Isabel, I’d stop now, but I can’t.
“I’ll keep your secret. I promise. Please don’t worry.”
She sits quietly.
“Tell me about the area outside where everyone has lunch,” I ask, hating myself as the words form on my tongue. “They seemed so happy and carefree. I’m jealous.”
“What do you want to know?”
I shrug. “Are there people out there every day?”
“If it’s not too cold or raining.” She shakes her head. “Just at lunch. More in the summer.”
“Who do the trucks belong to?”
“John and Carlos.”
“Do they park them there all the time?”
She hesitates, glancing at me before she answers. “Usually. So that there’s a place for everyone to sit. It’s permitted. And they like to show off their big trucks. They treat them like children, covering the truck beds so they don’t get dirty.”
Covered truck beds?I smile.
“Do John and Carlos live on the property?”
“Carlos lives with his wife nearby. John lives in the city, but he only goes home on Fridays. Gas is expensive to come and go every day.”
Fridays.
“I’d like to start taking walks, and I’d love if you came with me so that I don’t get lost. Do you have time tomorrow?”
“Of course,” she replies. “The property is so beautiful, especially now. The camellias are starting to bloom.”
“I don’t want to keep you from your work, but you have my promise that I’ll take your secret with me to the grave.”
She nods. “Thank you.”
When the door clicks shut, I flop back on the sofa.Friday.I need to figure out how to hide in that truck on Friday without being seen. Tomorrow, when we go outside, I’ll see if I can investigate a bit. Getting into John’s truck will get me to Porto, which would be ideal, but even if it has to be Carlos’s truck, at least I’ll be out of this place.
But even if I can stow away, what then? I have no documents. I’ll never be able to board a plane.
I can take a freighter from the docks.Melissa, at my old job, said she was saving money to do this. When Tori questioned her, she assured us it was a thing—in the US.
Do they do it here too?
There’s another knock at the door. Paula must have forgotten something. Either that or she needs more reassurances.
“Come in,” I call, standing and smoothing my skirt.
The door opens, and a young man is in the doorway. He’s quite handsome, although he hasn’t fully grown into his body.
“Hello,” he says with a smile. “I’m Rafael Huntsman, and you don’t look like a little girl anymore.”
35
Daniela
