Page 2

My heart breaks. It’s good news—my baby is growing like any normal child should—but he’s doing it all without me by his side. I’m missing out on these vital moments of his life and there isn’t anything I can do to change it, not if I want to keep him safe.
Lady stops in front of a nearly invisible door and I skid to a halt right behind her. She looks furtively down each end of the long cement tube we just stumbled down before knocking exactly three times.
Then, we wait.
Down here, there are no howler monkeys or cicadas to mask the tense silence. Somewhere, in the distance, water leaks from a pipe, but other than that, we are completely alone.
Until the doorknob starts to shake.
I’ve been through this process before, but it never gets easier. My heart clenches and my nerves tighten. Every muscle in my body is flexed so hard that if I had any mind to think about it, I might be worried that I was about to snap—but my wellbeing is the furthest thing from my mind right now. All I can think about is...
“Oscar!” My voice rattles down the empty cement walls as Lady and I are bathed in a box of gentle yellow light.
I ignore the man who opened the door for us, instead rushing past him to the perfect angel sleeping in a white crib at the far side of the new room.
My surroundings bleed away as I sweep Oscar up in my arms. His cotton onesie is soft and his puffy chipmunk cheeks are a rosy shade of red. I smother him in kisses, trying to be as gentle as possible. My heart wants him to wake up, but my brain knows that he needs his rest. He’s growing so much, and so quickly, I don’t want to be selfish...
As though he can sense my longing, Oscar’s eyelids flutter open and his emerald green eyes bathe me in a blanket of happiness.
He smiles and all of my pain and fear instantly evaporates. “Mama’s here,” I whisper, my voice breaking with emotion.
Ozzy gurgles and reaches up a stubby little finger. I lean over and let him trace the contours of my face. “Mama,” he laughs.
Relief caresses my shaking heart. He hasn’t forgotten me, not yet. I’m still his mama.
“Catalina,” the deep voice places a thick reassuring hand on my shoulder.
“Thank you, Juan,” I whisper, unable to take my eyes off of my baby boy.
“How are you holding up?” Angel’s old advisor gently steps around Ozzy and I before collapsing down onto a ratty couch by the crib. He sounds exhausted.
“I’m fine,” I say, and in this moment it’s the truth. The reality that I’m still a prisoner hardly factors into my mood at all; either does the fact that I’m all alone in my parenthood. Ozzy’s father hasn’t been heard from in almost two years now, and I’ve long since stopped hoping that he ever might return. My concentration needs to be fully focused on the safety of my child and myself. If Angel ever returns, then I will deal with him, but until that time comes, there is no peace in thinking about the vanquished prince I once gave myself to.
That doesn’t stop him from seeping up to the front of my mind any time I feel weak, though. His strong arms and muscular chest so often tease comfort when I’m at my darkest points, but when my senses return, I realize that the hope of his return is futile. All I can control is my own life, and even then, I’m only in control of so little of it...
But I don’t want to think about that right now. I don’t want to think about my captivity or my captor, I don’t want to think about going back to my cage and I definitely don’t want to think about Angel.
Right now, I’m with my son, and life is perfect; the fact that it won’t last hardly figures into it. Ozzy makes me happy, and all of this pain and suffering is worth it if it keeps him safe.
2
Angel
For the first time in nearly two years, I breathe in Colombian air.
It tastes just like I remember.
Below, in the distance, the Cali lights blink and sparkle just like I remember. Above, the same stars I grew up under shine down on me just like I remember.
But none of it feels like I remember; none of it feels like home.
Not without Catalina.
“How are you feeling, boss?”
“I’ve been worse,” I mumble, stretching up to the night sky, glad to finally be free from my dark, cramped backseat box. My men insisted that I hide away for the duration of our trip over the border, and I took their concerns seriously, even if I may have doubted them at first.
Dante is my brother, I know him; he’s never been so vigilant about anything in his life, why would he start now? But it quickly became clear that everything has changed.