I turn on the news, waiting to hear a report on his death. Instead, they report that Santiago died.
I must be losing it.
I turn the news up and even flip the channel to another station, but it's everywhere.
Santiago is dead. Who killed him? Why are they reporting this, but not Jonas?
The next week consists of controlled interviews, recording my new album, and sleep. Each night, the stadiums are packed. The first time I sing my new song, Country Boy, it goes viral online, which only makes my manager greedier. He has me in the studio, fast-tracking my album, which only strains my voice further.
I find slippery elms at the store and all the ingredients Dirk had bought for me and spend any time not singing, nursing my voice. When I think of how he used to remind me to take my lozenges, it just makes me cry more.
I've been playing all over Latin America. Several embassy parties I've had to sing at after my concerts. My voice is holding up so far, but I know the breaking point will eventually come again.
Every embassy party I go to, I take a weapon of some sort. But for the first time, not one man attempts to take me to their room. It's almost as if word got around I killed Jonas, although no one has said anything to me, nor has anyone mentioned him.
It's as if he was a ghost and just disappeared.
While most embassy parties are private, some are publicly announced. Tonight is one of those.
I'm in Guatemala and get to the private airport. Mateo and I pull up to the plane, and when I get inside, I freeze.
At first, I only see the back of her. But I would know her from anywhere. Then, when she turns, I almost get sick.
I cover my face in horror. Julieta is black and blue, has a split fat lip, and her left eye is almost swollen shut. Her nose might be broken.
She sees me and acts like nothing is out of the ordinary.
"Ms. Diego. Please have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?"
I forget who we are surrounded by and reach for her. "Oh my God. Are you okay?"
Her lip shakes, but she sternly says, "I'm very well, thank you. Can I get you a drink?" She glances behind me and smiles. "Senor Duran, what will you have?"
Mateo's chicharrones breath flares in my nostrils, and I cringe.
"Tequila."
"Yes, sir."
He passes us and goes to the back where several other men are.
"Water?" Julieta says, and tears form.
"Julieta—"
"Please just tell me what you want," she pleads quietly.
"Water is great, thank you."
What is she doing here?
Where is Ryker?
She passes me, and I sit in the front seat, away from the men. When we get up in the air, I tell Mateo I need sleep, shut the divider, and go near the cockpit where Julieta is.
I hug her, and she shakes but pulls back while wiping her face.
"What did they do to you?"
"Please, go back to your seat, so I don't get in more trouble."
"Tell me what happened."
"Please. I'm begging you."
There's so much pain in her eyes. I stay frozen, trying to figure out how to help her.
"Please," she pleas.
The bell rings, and she straightens her skirt and takes a deep breath before going back to the men.
The entire flight, I try to figure out how to help her and wait for another opportunity to talk to her, but it never comes.
The flight is quick, and when I leave, Mateo is behind me, so I can't even hug her. She has on her professional expression and tells me to have a nice time in Belize.
When I step off the plane, there is a car waiting for us, and I'm whisked away to the embassy hotel.
I change into my pre-performance cocktail dress. It's red—the same color Jonas' blood turned as it pooled at his feet. I know. It haunts me in my dreams each night.
When Dirk told me that I would have new demons to face, I didn't believe him. Jonas was evil, the devil himself, but killing him still created an emotional rollercoaster for me.
I don't regret it. I would do it again and wish I would have done it to every man who ever touched me.
But it doesn't absolve me from my sin.
Tonight, the party is to celebrate the new Ambassador to Mexico stationed in Belize, Eduardo Macias. I shudder thinking about him and what he did to me the last time I saw him.