That area code.
He mutes the television and answers the phone.
“Hello.”
“Adrián?”
“Yes.”
“It’s Emily,” he has a slight accent, and that surprises her, “Sara’s sister. I apologize for calling this late.” She pauses for a moment, dreading and hopeful at the same time. “Sara’s gone and we haven’t heard from her. Do you know where she is?”
It is the first time he has had contact with anyone associated with Sara, except for the man at the office who once granted him so much unsolicited information.
“Know where Sara is? No.”
“I hoped she had come back and gone to see you or got in touch with you.” Em prays he knows something. Anything.
“Come back from where?”
“From India.”
It takes him a moment to still his thoughts. “Why are you calling me?”
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be.” Adrián bows his head and closes his eyes. “Just answer me.”
“Because he won’t go looking for her.”
He walks to the picture of Sara on the wall, the companion to the one he gave her, except that in this one he had captured her whole. Why didn’t you go looking for me?
. . .
B
ring her back, please.” She doesn’t see Jeff until he turns on the light in the kitchen. “In one piece.” Em lowers her eyes and looks at the rug on the floor. He will not agree with what she has just done.
Adrián sits on the porch and drops the phone on his lap
— and leans back with hands clasped behind his head to stare at an unhesitant sky, resolved to finish what he started. He searched her out on a beach once, and he will search her out now, wherever she may be and whatever the consequences.
Drawing Lines in the Sand
Like A Blue Thread
