I guided Betany past them with a confident nod as if we belonged, emerging onto a side street away from the main entrance. Night had fully descended now. The city transformed into a landscape of shadows and artificial light.
“Where are we going, Grandma?” Bettney asked as we walked briskly away from the library, her small legs working double time to keep pace.
A good question, one I was still answering myself. We couldn’t go home. Robert had been clear about that. Hotels required ID and credit cards. Friends or other family members would be obvious places for these people with resources to look.
Then I remembered Maria Vasquez, a former student who had become a friend over the years. She managed a small apartment building in a predominantly Hispanic neighborhood on the west side, catering to new immigrants and visiting relatives who sometimes needed accommodation without paperwork or questions.
“We’re going to visit a friend,” I told Bettany, flagging down a taxi at the corner. “Someone who can help us.”
In the taxi, I gave the driver an address three blocks from Maria’s building, unwilling to leave a direct trail. Bettany leaned against me, fatigue finally catching up with her after the stress and excitement of our escape.
“You’re being so brave,” I whispered, stroking her hair. “Your dad would be proud.”
“Is daddy in trouble?” she asked, her voice muffled against my side.
“He’s trying to fix something that’s wrong,” I answered carefully. “Sometimes doing the right thing can be dangerous, but it’s still important to do it.”
She nodded as if this made perfect sense. “like in Harry Potter when they have to fight Voldemort even though it’s scary.”
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