Marisa listened to her daughter while she studied Nate in the front. He'd aged, too, of course, but the few wrinkles she could see when he smiled only made him look better. His hair was a bit shorter. His eyes wiser, kinder, maybe. Nate had improved in the eight years since she'd seen him.

Had he always been so handsome? Perhaps she'd just missed it, wracked as she'd been by grief and fear all those years ago. She wasn't missing it now.

The taxi driver pulled up outside of what had to be one of the oldest hotels in Acapulco, if the design were any indication. This three-story structure was the ugly step-sister to the top-quality high-rise resorts that lined the beach. Still grand luxury compared with what Marisa was accustomed to.

Leslie paid the taxi driver in American dollars, which made him smile wide and insist on giving them his cell phone number in case they needed him again. He waved wildly as he pulled away. Though he'd probably overcharged them, compared with a taxi in Manhattan, it was a bargain price. And Marisa didn't blame the guy. The twenties Leslie handed him could probably feed his family for a week.

"We can go to my room," Leslie said, leading the way inside.

Ana was silent as she took in the fancy lobby. Marisa followed her gaze to the tile floor and the gleaming chrome of the bar on the far side.

Marisa couldn't help gaping herself. Old, yes, but still, it was air conditioned and freshly painted. Bright pink and aqua contemporary sofas and chairs dotted the lobby like confetti, flanked by shiny white tables. A bowl of candy sat on one table as if these people had money to burn. A man sat in one of the chairs, focused on his cell phone. Two women behind the tall desk smiled when they walked in.

Leslie and Nate were headed toward the elevators when Ana pulled on Marisa's hand. "Hold on," Marisa said.

They paused and turned.

Ana, suddenly shy again, wouldn't speak until Marisa crouched down beside her.

She spoke in Spanish, an extra measure of security for the four-year-old. "Mama, do you see?" She pointed out the rear door to the sparkling blue water of the swimming pool. "Can we, Mama? Please?"

Leslie and Nate had stopped to wait. Nate wore a pleasant smile, though his eyes looked tired. Leslie's gaze flicked from the elevator to the child.

"Could we talk outside?" Marisa stood and faced her sister. "She's never seen a pool before, and we've been traveling since dawn."

Leslie's jaw dropped. "Never seen a pool? What do you mean?"

"There are no swimming pools in our village, Leslie." She turned to Nate. "I know how hot it is, but maybe there are fans running somewhere, and we can watch her from the shade."

Nate shrugged. "It's fine with me."