his head, his dark hair falling over his eyes. When he lifted it, he pulled his hand from Mae and started to sign. “Read it,” Mae translated. Styx pointed at the front door. “There’s a porch swing out there. You need to read it to understand everything.”
I rose from the seat. I didn’t look back at Styx or Mae, desperately needing to read my mother’s words. I wanted to know who I was . . . I simply wanted to know her.
Lucy Sinclair.
Sitting on the porch swing, my hands unsteady as I turned the page and began. With every passing minute, a hole caved in my heart. With every sentence about being pregnant with me, the name she had given me, how she had held me close every night, alone in a home owned by Sanchez, rocking me to sleep . . . with my mother’s love for Styx . . . River, her son who she cherished so much. I fought to breathe. I fought past the devastation of what someone so young, so kind-hearted, went through at the mercy of cruel men. When all she ever wanted was a family. Her babies. All she ever wanted was to be loved and to love with her whole heart.
My daughter . . . my Sofia . . .
I’d been named Sofia.
I paused at the beginning of the next section. Because I knew this was it. When she discovered where I had gone. Who had betrayed her.
He has given her away. He has given her to a man named Alfonso Quintana. My baby . . . my Sofia . . . has been taken to Mexico. Where abouts? I do not know.
Tears flooded my face, and I had to repeatedly wipe my eyes so I could read.
He said he loved me. Said he was going to lose his club if he didn’t give her up. He said we could have another baby in her place, to heal my broken heart. Does he not understand that he has given away my heart?
I don’t know how to get her back. I need to get her back. I have to think of something.
Desperation pulsed off the pages. The desperation of a mother who had lost her two children. A woman who had no idea how to get them back.
I have no choice. I can’t stay with Sanchez. Reaper wants information on the Diablos. I can give him that, on the condition he helps me get Sofia.
There was a smudge on the page, and I realized that she had been crying. I ran my finger over the smeared ink. This was my mother’s tears, her pain . . . and I was here. I had returned. I wanted to tell her “Your Sofia has come home,” but she would never know . . .
I’ll give Reaper information on the Diablos, provided he promises to help me with Sofia, and lets me take River. I’ll take them far away from this life. I’ll take them to the countryside, buy a small farm, where it is just them and me, and nothing but happiness and love. My son, and my daughter. No pain or people who want to hurt them.
My dream come true.
My greatest wish in life.
I turned the next page, but there were only empty pages. I flicked and flicked through them hoping for more, but there were none. Closing the journal, I held it to my chest and let the tears fall.
My mother’s dream had not come true; instead it was shattered. She never got her wish. She never got her small country farmhouse for me and Styx. She never got any of it. I held the journal to my chest and wept for the woman who was so young to have dealt with such pain. The mother I had always yearned for, but never knew. For the life that could have been . . . peace and smiles and a mother and brother who loved me, and I them.
Someone sat beside me. I lifted my head to see it was Styx. He was sitting forward, his hands clasped together as he stared out over the forest surrounding his home.
“He never helped her, did he?” I whispered, referring to his father. Styx shook his head. “He killed her when she returned?” I saw pain flash across Styx’s face . . . but he nodded. “Did . . .” I sucked in a breath. “Did she suffer?” The muscle in Styx’s jaw twitched, then I saw