And now she’d be gone for hours. Her job was so far away that she didn’t have time to come home for lunch; it had been one of many niggling concerns on her mind the day before. The woman’s thoughts had been like leaves in a whirlwind: none weighty in themselves, but the overall effect had left Seb with a headache from trying to focus on them. Psychic readings weren’t always an easy way to pick up a few pesos, especially when all he wanted was to get them over with quickly, so he could buy something to eat and get back to the only thing that mattered to him. Even so, he hoped what he’d told the woman had helped. She definitely needed to relax more – though he was glad she hadn’t decided to start doing it today.

Leaving the scented bedroom, Seb started searching, his steps echoing on the tiled floors. Though he rarely broke into houses any more, there’d been a time when he’d done it all too often, with much worse motives than now. Gently, he pushed open doors, peered into rooms. His face creased into a frown. She would have one, wouldn’t she? He hadn’t seen for sure; he’d just assumed. Then on the ground floor, he found it: a computer sitting on a desk in the corner.

Perfect. Seb swung himself into the chair and hit the on button. The local school with its computers the public could use was closed today, and he hadn’t been able to get a bed at the hostel for the last few nights, where he might have borrowed someone’s laptop. He entered a few words into the search engine, typing slowly. A list of options came up; he found the one he was looking for and selected it.

Diaz Orphanage, said the website’s home page: A haven for children. Seb’s lip curled. He’d seen many orphanages over the years; few could be described as “havens”. But he’d only found out about this one yesterday, and he needed to check it – who knew, it might turn out to be the place where he’d finally find what he was looking for. His heart beat faster at the thought, though he was only all too aware by now how unlikely it was. Taking a piece of paper from the woman’s desk, he carefully wrote down the address and stuck it in his knapsack; it was around a hundred miles to the east, in the foothills of the Sierra Madre.