That chip was my comp to a penthouse suite. The next morning someone was in the room and it wasn’t no damn maid. It was the same man who gave me the chip, and now he was giving me a business card that said call me and a number. It said Carlos.

My friend. Who shared with me the Cuban cigars. Why would he burn me alive?

SEVEN

“Sina, lo sciento! Lo sciento!” The nanny kept saying. “Lo sciento! They took the baby! The baby!” She was crying and screaming out.

“Carmella, who took the baby? What are you talking about?” I was running around frantic for my keys while trying to understand what she was saying.

“Lo sciento! Lo sciento.” She cried and hung up.

My heart was racing as I grabbed my keys and ran out of the office. Before I could close the door, I was greeted by two officers. “Sina Lolita King?” One of them asked me.

“Yes. I just received a call from the nanny saying my baby. They took my baby.”

“Yes, we need you to come with us. There is a warrant for your arrest.”

“A warrant? Where is my son?”

“We need you to come with us, ma’am. You can either go willingly or go in handcuffs? Which one will it be?”

“My son.”

“Come with us and you can check on the status of your son.”

I stood frozen in place. My son. The second officer opened the door of the SUV. I looked at both of them and got in. My mind was racing. Warrant for what? And what kind of SUV was this? I couldn’t even see out of the windows. What precinct are they taking me to? Where are they taking me? These were not law officers. I was not being taken to a precinct.

The SUV pulled into a warehouse and both of the men got out and my door flew open.

“Is my son here?” That was my only concern.

“Follow me.”

This was no precinct. There were no police cars or police personnel. There was nothing official about this building. I was led down a long, dimly like hallway with marbled glass floors. All I could hear were footsteps. But then I smelled something familiar. We turned the corner and the smell got louder. Freshly rolled Cubans.

The doors opened and I couldn’t believe my eyes. No fucking way. I got sick to my stomach. The cigar smoke was permeating the air and here was the two of them looking more alike than what I had imaged. Don Carlos and his grandson were laughing and playing. I wanted to yell out but I couldn’t. This was that crucial moment where I had to remain calm and calculate my next move. That was what my father taught me.