‘Border politics comes in murky shades of grey,’ Duval had said. ‘The good, the bad and the ugly can all end up on the same side at different times.’ Reality continues sliding away from me and for a moment I feel light and papery enough to drift away.

‘But you were in touch with them?’

‘I wrote them.’ Her mouth turns down. I wrote all of them, but I never got no replies.’

My heart is pounding so loudly it feels like someone must have plucked it from my chest and held it to my ear. I’m almost too afraid to ask. ‘So you have addresses. You know where they are?’

Nora makes a noise like a horse whinny. ‘Of course I know where they are. I have their files! What do you think? That poor Emilio could keep that kind of shit in his office? You got any idea the kind of trouble he’d have gotten himself in if people knew what he was doing? By rights those kids should have been in Mexican orphanages or living on the streets, and for what? For what? So they could grow up and cross the damn desert and die with cactus spikes poking out of their mouths.’ She heaves herself off the bed and angrily shoves the tote back in the cupboard. ‘Now don’t you go blabbing to anyone about this, girl, don’t you dare go getting him into trouble. He’s a good man and it’s all in the past now. He wanted nothing but the best for them. You do understand what I’m saying, don’t ya? This way they got to be American citizens!’ She plants her hands on her hips. ‘American citizens, girl,’ she says fiercely, ‘and believe me, there ain’t no easy road to that.’

Duval stands at Nora’s grill, his brow furrowed in concentration. He plunges a fork into a piece of steak and turns it. Fat spits and he rubs his eye. I sit on the wooden boards halfway down the stairs and watch him. It’s early still and the sun is on the move. It steals through the bar’s window spilling hard and white onto the floor and lighting up a path almost to my feet. I hug the files in my lap. He does not know yet. It’s a curious feeling. It’s a wonderful feeling – to have something so big to give him, and it makes it all okay. Duval looks up to find me watching. His mouth breaks into a smile and I think that if I can just hold on to this moment, if I can find a place to keep it deep inside me where nobody can ever touch it, then I can be the great Night Flowering Cirrus, the Midnight Cactus that will bloom forever. I smile back at him. Somewhere across the great swelling rolls of an ocean, Jack and Emmy wait for me . . .