Page 112

Staying casual, Marisol kept her eyes on the playground not to intimidate the woman with direct eye contact. “Do you live nearby?”

The woman held her breath, and Marisol regretted the question. She’d pushed too fast, alerted her that she’d caught on to something—though she wasn’t sure what.

When the woman didn’t answer, Marisol risked scaring her off and turned to look at her. Of all the things she expected, unshed tears brimming in her eyes wasn’t it.

“What’s wrong?” Marisol resisted reaching out to touch her. She couldn’t know if the woman had been followed and didn’t want to alert anyone who might be watching. “If you’re in trouble?—”

“This isn’t how I planned to do this,” she said, voice trembling like her hands. “I’m so sorry?—”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I can get you out of here. There are shelters and?—”

“I’m not the one in trouble, Marisol,” she said, like it hurt. Like every syllable seared the roof of her mouth.

The shock of hearing her name from a stranger’s lips sent Marisol’s heart pounding and her legs surging with the desire to run. She couldn’t be a vampire—they might be in the shade, but there was no way to avoid the sun to get there. Her arms and legs were bare; she’d show signs of injury.

“Do I know you?” Marisol asked instead of running the hell away from her.

“You don’t know how it breaks my heart to admit that you don’t.” She wiped at her eyes and tried to gather herself. “And I wish I could explain this slowly, to give you time to?—”

“Who are you?” Marisol asked, something inside of her recognizing the answer a second before she heard it.

“I’m your mother,” she breathed, with tears streaming down her cheeks. “And you’re not safe.”