Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
My skin goes tight.
Belinda didn’t write this note. And she didn’t run away. I know it as well as I know my own name.
The timing is…
What is it?
I finally figure out who’s been taunting me, and Belinda vanishes.
Is the chef here in the US? Or is someone doing his bidding?
He wants something. He wants leverage. He wants me moving toward him.
“The police say to keep her room intact,” Raven calls from the hall, her voice too high. “Don’t touch anything. They’re dispatching a unit.”
Vinnie’s talking over her, lower, calmer. “Yes, eleven. Yes, white, fair skin. Blue eyes, blond hair. Four foot eleven. Last seen at— We think sometime after nine…”
I set the note on the desk, careful, like it might explode. My hands shake. I shove them into my pockets so they don’t start doing something stupid, like riffling through drawers. Preserve the scene. Don’t contaminate evidence. I know the rules.
I pull my phone out to call Hawk.
Straight to voicemail. Again.
“Hey, it’s me,” I whisper, because saying his name hurts. “Emergency. Please call me.”
I hang up, type fast before I can start crying.
Belinda’s missing. She left a note, but I don’t think it’s from her. Please call ASAP.
I hit send.
The doorbell rings.
The police are here. I run out of Belinda’s room. Raven and Vinnie are still talking on their respective phones. “I’ll get the door,” I say swiftly and race down the stairs.
I yank the door open.
Not the police.
The woman on the porch is dressed in a dark suit with a silver badge at the breast.
“Thank God you’re here,” I say. “Please come in. I’m Daniela. I’m Belinda’s foster sister.”
“You’re Daniela?” she asks. “Daniela Agudelo?”
“Yes.” I cock my head. “How do you know my last name?”
Then I notice her badge.
It doesn’t say Austin Police Department.
It says U.S. Department of Homeland Security.
My mouth goes dry.
“I’m Officer Leona Patel with DHS, serving documents on behalf of USCIS.” She opens a leather case and pulls out a stapled packet. “A decision has been issued in your Temporary Protected Status matter.”
I grip the doorframe. “Decision? I don’t understand, the judge said—”
“What the Austin Family Court judge said has no bearing. The matter was referred to our office.”
I gulp. “And…?”
“It’s been determined that there’s insufficient evidence that you face individualized danger if you’re removed to Colombia. This is your formal notice.”
The words hit in pieces.
Temporary Protected Status.
Insufficient evidence.
Removed.
I blink dumbly. “What does that mean? Right now?”
“It means your TPS and its benefits—work authorization, protection from removal—end as of the date of this notice.” She points to a block of text that swims in my vision.
She continues talking but I don’t hear her.
It’s just a jumble of blurred noise.
Raven appears in the hall behind me, robe tied, eyes wide. “What’s going on?”
I can’t pull air. “Immigration,” I whisper.
She grabs the file from me. “Let me see that.” Then she turns to Officer Patel. “This is insane. No government agency works this quickly. It’s only been a few days since Daniela and Vinnie’s divorce.”
Officer Patel doesn’t react. “I don’t know anything about that, ma’am.”
“You’ll be hearing from our attorney.” Raven pushes her out the door. “Now get the hell out of here.”
“Ma’am—”
Raven slams the door.
“I… I thought it was the police,” I say.
Vinnie comes around the corner, phone to his chest. “Who was at the door? Was it the cops?”
“Not yet,” Raven says. She hands him the packet. “DHS says Daniela’s temporary protective status has been revoked.”
“Jesus.” He looks at Raven. Looks back at me. “That’s impossible.”
“That’s what I said,” Raven agrees. “The government is notoriously slow. Something is fishy.”
“We’ll get an attorney,” Vinnie says. “I’ll call—”
“Please.” I hold up my hand. “Forget about me. I don’t even care right now. We need to find Belinda.”
Vinnie lays a hand on my shoulder. “You are just as important to Raven and me as Belinda is, Dani.”
“But I’m an adult. I can take care of myself. Belinda’s a child. Please. We have to find her.”
Raven nods. “She’s right, Vinnie.”
I nod too fast. My vision swims. “The note. It’s typed. It sounds wrong.”
Raven’s hand tightens. “Police asked us to leave her room untouched. They’re on their way.”
“I know.” I press my fists to my thighs until they hurt. Pain makes the room sharpen. “I think— I think it’s him.”
“Who?” Vinnie asks.
“Gordon Brown. I mean, I think he was my father’s chef, and I think he’s the one who’s been stalking me, and now…” I can’t breathe. “Now…”
Raven shakes her head once, hard. “No. We are not jumping to abduction.”
I inhale, inhale, inhale…
“Easy,” Vinnie says. “Breathe out. You’re hyperventilating.”
“She didn’t run,” I say, panting. “That voice in the note isn’t hers. And she was giddy at dinner. Plus she’s always saying how much she loves it here.”
Raven’s jaw flexes. “Okay,” she says. “Okay.”
The doorbell rings again. Vinnie opens it. Two uniformed officers step into the foyer with a practiced calm that does nothing for my heart rate.