Page 84 of Shadows of Justice

“She is a very special person,” Leo answers, leaning forward to look at his son intently. “Her name is Genevieve.”

“I’m Alejandro. It’s nice to meet you,” he says to me.

“You too,” I answer, as emotions well up and my voice breaks.

Fucking therapy. Two months ago you couldn’t get me to cry. Now, I can’t seem to get through the day without it.

He has his mother’s nose. The same cleft in his chin. I hope someone tells him that someday—how much of her still lives on through him.

I wish someone had told me that.

“Is that your dog?” he asks excitedly, pointing at Doughnut. I nod, thankful for the distraction.

“It sure is. His name is Doughnut. He’s very nice, if you want to say hi.”

Alejandro goes down on his knees beside my emotional support squish. He scratches and loves on him, getting wet licks in return. We all chuckle as we watch them. I’m not quite sure why, but my eyes fill with tears. Leo notices, and reaches over to squeeze my knee. A million unsaid words that I finally understand read clearly in his eyes.

The boy pops up. “Can I go play Mario Kart now?”

“Sí, Alé,” Leo says. “Keep it low.”

Alejandro runs back over to the TV and plops down in front of it, grabbing up the controller. He unpauses his game and removes the Yankee hat, setting it on the floor beside him.

The blood stalls in my veins.

There’s not a single hair on his head. Not even eyebrows.

I feel Leo grab my hand and realize that my cheeks are streaked with tears, dripping onto the fabric of the CalTech shirt. I wipe them quickly away and look at him, the depth of pain there enough to shatter what little resolve I had left.

“Your obligations,” I say, my voice hardly above a whisper. He nods slowly.

“It’s a genetic cancer. Lynch’s Syndrome. His mother died of it right after he was born. Hers spread fast . . . uterus, ovaries.” Leo sighs. “A rare quickness—I’m told. I always wanted to remove myself from the life, but knew the only chance he had was if I maintained financial freedom. This sickness . . . it’s aggressive. I can’t lose him like I lost Maricruz. I’d never survive that.”

I squeeze his hand, feeling the weight of what he’d kept hidden for all this time. The fear, the loss . . . I ache for him. For his son.

“That’s all changed now, thanks to you,” Gloria says, tearing my gaze away to see her smiling warmly at me.

I sniffle and wipe under my nose. “What do you mean?”

“I’m a contractor for the US government now,” Leo says. “Which means government benefits. I’m also finishing my last missing credits for my masters, and will start on my PhD in the Spring.”

“We’ll never have to worry about affording his treatments again,” says Gloria, looking at her grandson with tears in her eyes.

“Or live in the shadows,” Leo says.

“That’s . . . incredible,” I say, words not even measuring up to just how incredible that is. The doorbell rings and Gloria rises to answer it. She pauses, looking down at me, and squeezes my shoulder.

“It’s all because of you,” she says, and looks to her son, saying something in Spanish with a mischievous look in her eye.

Mari would have liked her.

He tsks his tongue at her. Do not say that to her, Mamá. That’s a weird thing to say.

I pipe in, enjoying the look of shock on both of their faces.

I wish I could have met her.

Gloria chuckles and raises her eyebrows at me, and then heads to answer the door.

---