Chapter 10: Cardenal

Nobody in the dining room moved.

My mother held her glasses in one hand and pointed at me with the other.

"What man, mija?"

"Mama, not in front of the child."

"The child is asleep."

"Then not in front of him."

I did not look at Dell.

He shifted Luz higher on his shoulder, and his voice, when it came, was the voice of a man reading a dump truck page.

"Mrs. Arriaga, I'll put her back in bed."

"You'll do no such thing until I've heard it."

"Then you'll hear it from her," he said, "when she's ready."

He carried my daughter up the stairs without hurrying.

My mother watched his back, and then she watched mine.

"Tonight," I said. "I swear it, Mama. Tonight, after I've been somewhere."

"Where?"

My phone buzzed against the tablecloth.

One text, from a number I had never saved.

CARDENAL. 6 P.M. ALONE. THE NEXT PHOTOGRAPH WILL NOT BE OF A PIÑATA.

Cardenal is the best steakhouse in Laredo.

It has white tablecloths and a wall of wine and a private room at the back with a door that closes without a sound.

I arrived at five fifty-nine in my cream suit and my flat boots, because I would not give him heels.

A waiter led me through the kitchen steam to the room at the back.

Escamilla sat alone at a table set for two.

A bottle of sparkling water sweated at his elbow, and the red square bloomed in his pocket.

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