of the chorus. At least there were no witnesses this time.
Singing and dancing around the kitchen used to be a group activity led by his mom. It always involved laughter and, of course, whiny resistance from him and Diego. Though Yadriel secretly enjoyed it and had just put on a show so his brother didn’t think he was a dork.
But now, the close proximity and Lita’s tight embrace felt suffocating. He squirmed until Lita finally released him.
Yadriel grabbed the wooden spoon and scooped up some rice and beans. He took a large bite, but as soon as it touched his tongue, sharp pain lit up the cut. Eyes watering, he forced himself to quickly swallow it down. He was starving, but he also needed to hurry and get to Maritza and Julian, so he dug through the Tupperware drawer. He could eat on the way to school.
On the counter sat a small, ancient TV showing the local Spanish news station. Yadriel paused, staring intently at the screen and reading the marquee and list of upcoming topics. The box next to the news anchor showed a live car chase through downtown. For Los Angeles, live car chases were about as reliable as the hourly weather update.
There was no mention of Julian or park muggers.
Okay, maybe the latter happened a bit too often to make it into the top new stories, but shouldn’t a missing teenager raise some kind of alarms? He hadn’t even gotten an AMBER Alert on his phone. Hadn’t someone reported Julian missing by now? His friends? His brother?
And what about Miguel?
“Ay!” The sharp snap of a dish towel against his butt made Yadriel jump. “Get some food and hurry up!”
“Where’s Dad and Diego? Still out looking for Miguel?” Yadriel asked, yanking out a small, orange-stained Tupperware.
Lita sighed heavily, bobbing her head. “Sí, been looking all night.” She tutted, waving a hand through the air. “Todavía nada.”
Still nothing?
Yadriel frowned as he scooped some food into the Tupperware. How was that possible? Had the search dogs not picked up anything, either? How could Miguel die in their own neighborhood without anyone seeing or knowing at least something? Yadriel had so many questions he wanted to ask, but Julian and Maritza were waiting for him, and Lita was shooing him again.
Lita handed him a spoon and smiled a tired smile. “Here, now, go to school, and be careful, ¿claro?”
Yadriel forced a smile. “Yes, Lita.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek and headed out, the sound of Lita’s singing followed him down the path. He didn’t see any brujx. Maybe they’d moved their search to beyond the walls of the cemetery.
Maritza and Julian waited for him by the main gate. Maritza scrolled through her phone, leaning against a weatherworn statue of Our Lady of Guadalupe as Julian paced back and forth.
When he saw Yadriel, Julian’s bright smile cut dimples into his cheeks.
Yadriel’s stomach did a little flip that he did not appreciate.
“We good?” Julian asked, dragging Maritza’s attention away from her phone.
“Yeah, let’s get out of here before someone sees us,” Yadriel said, casting another furtive glance back toward the cemetery.
“Yes!” Julian agreed. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”
Maritza opened the gate, and Julian rushed out as if he were being released from custody on good behavior.
“Don’t wander off!” Yadriel called after him.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” he said, leading the way down the street.
Yadriel scrubbed at his eyes, and Maritza fell into step beside him.
“Wow, you look like shit,” she said with a small laugh. “What happened?”
“Julian happened,” he grumbled, watching Julian’s back as he led the way, hands tucked into his pockets and whistling to himself, seemingly without a care in the world.
“So the sleepover went well, I take it?” Maritza smirked.
“There was very little sleep involved,” Yadriel murmured. When Maritza giggled, he shot her a glare. “Because he wouldn’t shut up.” He got a spoonful of rice and beans and blew on it before taking a large bite. It stung the cut on his tongue, but only a little.
A beat-up Honda full of teenagers drove by, music blaring from the crappy speakers so loud that each beat of the bass sent the license plate rattling. Across the street, a woman dug through recycling bins, pulling out cans and plastic bottles.
“Pretty sure spirits don’t sleep.”
“I’m gathering that.” He just had to summon the most difficult spirit possible, didn’t he? He was tired and frustrated, and the closer they got to school, the more tension worked its way into his shoulders.
“And