“No,” Marcus said.
Alexander frowned.
Marcus pointed.
Daniel was not looking toward Alexander.
He was looking directly at Sofia.
We stood in silence.
Then I led them upstairs.
My old bedroom still had pale floral wallpaper.
I crossed to the corner near the radiator and knelt.
Years earlier, my father had installed loose wooden panels because pipes ran beneath the floor.
I pried up the third board.
My hand disappeared into darkness.
And touched paper.
The envelope was still there.
Yellowed.
Dust-covered.
Untouched.
Alexander crouched beside me.
Written across the front were three words.
FOR CAROLINE ONLY.
He stared.
I opened it.
Inside were five photographs, a key, a folded sheet of paper, and a small cassette tape.
Marcus took the photographs first.
The first showed Daniel beside a shipping container.
The second showed Carmen when she was much younger.
The third showed General Thomas Vale.
The fourth showed Rafael Robles.
