+00:43:02 (6:02pm)

Isabel watched Jesus get into his truck while talking on his phone. From what she had overheard, or rather, spied on, he was talking to someone for information, and not reporting the kidnapping. Of course he could have noticed her spying on him and put on a show until he was in the privacy of his truck, and then he could say whatever he wanted. But, she called him because she had no other options, and would just have to hope he was taking Mateo’s threat against her daughter seriously.

She turned away from the window after he drove out of sight, and returned to her living room to finish cleaning the glass. She grabbed the broom and swept up the larger pieces into the dustpan, a reminder that what she experienced was not just some horrible nightmare. Her composure was tilting precariously close to the edge, but just like before she focused on the task at hand to help keep her sanity. Floating over to the kitchen, Isabel dumped the glass into the trash can. She glanced over at the fridge which showcased all of Morena's drawings. The stick figures and rainbows triggered the thought she was trying so hard to ignore: I may never see my daughter again.

Isabel broke down, the tears flowing freely now that she had given in to them. She hated herself for being so weak and letting her daughter be taken away by a madman. She hated herself for ever letting him be in her daughter’s life. She hated herself for having to ask for help from someone who wanted nothing to do with her. She hated herself for not being able to do anything on her own to get her daughter back. She hated herself for hating herself.

Isabel went closer to the fridge to admire the artwork, which she usually ignored once it was put on display. As she approached she noticed something she didn’t remember posting on the fridge; a piece of junk mail with something written in crayon. Her daughter was four years-old, she could barely spell her name let alone a note. She pulled it from under the magnet that pinned it and recognized the writing as Mateo’s:

Catedral de San Pablo

7:00

Her eyes went wide at the implications of the message. She was sure he was providing her with another chance to join them before they leave. She looked up at the clock on the far side of the kitchen and saw it was around a quarter past six. She still had time to call Jesus and tell him where Mateo was going to be. Just as she was about to rush over to her phone on the table, she began to think things through.

Mateo left her this message, but it must be someplace he trusts. She had heard that in Mexico the churches are aligned with some of the cartels, who is to say it might not be the same here? Not to mention there was no guarantee that he would bring Morena to the meeting as well. If she had Jesus show up and Morena was not there, Mateo would figure out he was a cop and then either kill her daughter or disappear without ever reaching out to her again.

The best thing, she realized, was to keep it to herself for now. Once she knew where he was keeping Morena, then she could call Jesus and come up with a plan on how to rescue her. Just in case he wanted her to leave right away, she went and packed a small travel bag. She hoped she would be able to get away and signal for help before actually reaching the border, but it was better to be prepared.

Once she was in her car she plugged her phone in the charger to make sure she would have enough battery should she need it. She put the church name in the Maps app and set the GPS for directions. She stared at it for another moment, wondering if maybe she should at least call Jesus to let him in on her plan. She shook the thought away, knowing he would probably just try to talk her out of it or worse show up anyways and mess everything up. Upon finalizing her decision, she put the car into gear and started for the church.