Leslie returned from the restroom and approached Ana, and the two of them sat on the side of the fountain and talked.

"I'm glad they got to meet," Marisa said. "I've talked about Leslie a lot, tried to tell her about the rest of our family."

Now that Ana was safe with Leslie, Marisa could focus on Nate. His warm brown eyes held hers, and he reached out and took her hand. "You're a wonderful mother. I'm proud of what you're doing here in Mexico. Your sister would be, too, if she weren't so scared."

Poor Leslie. Marisa knew exactly how it felt to be targeted, threatened, given impossible choices. Leslie had been her rock after their mother died. They were both orphans then, since Daddy'd already been gone a year at that point. But Leslie'd been older, established. Aside from her father's family in Puerto Rico, whom Marisa had never met, Leslie was Marisa's only relative.

She'd do anything to help her sister, except abandon her daughter. Tears stung her eyes.

"Hey," Nate said. "It's going to be okay."

Marisa wiped them away with her free hand, the other still gripped in Nate's. She felt safe when he was with her, always had. Hadn't he kept her safe in New York all those years ago? Maybe he could do the same for Leslie. "How is it going to be okay?"

His gaze dipped to the table. "I don't know."

"You'll help her, though?"

He looked up with a sad expression she couldn't identify. "A lot of stuff has happened. I don't know how much help I could be, honestly. She needs to go to the police."

Marisa was about to ask about that stuff when she spotted Leslie and Ana walking toward her, holding hands.

"We're going for a walk," Leslie said. "She wants to show me a toy store she saw yesterday."

Marisa stood. "Okay. Sounds good."

"We thought we'd go alone, if that's all right with you."

"I'd rather stay with her."

"Don't you trust me?"

"It's not that, Leslie." She stifled the irritation. "I just don't usually leave her."

"I'm her aunt." Leslie squeezed Ana's hand. "We'll be fine. We want to get to know each other a little."

Marisa looked from one to the other. "Okay. I guess. We'll meet you back here in... How long?"

"An hour. Okay?"

Marisa nodded and sat back down and watched them leave. As soon as they were out of sight, she stood. "Let's go."

"We could stay. You want to get a drink?"

"I don't drink."

"Still?"

"I need to stay on my toes. Always. Alcohol makes you vulnerable." She took in Nate's tall, strong frame. "Well, maybe not you, but it makes me vulnerable."

Nate gave her a look she couldn't quite decipher. "I understand being vulnerable." He stood, and they walked to the entrance of the restaurant. "Where are we going?"