Page 91 of Her Redeemed Protector

“Ready?” I ask.

He nods vigorously, his eyes sparkling with unbridled enthusiasm.

Alice glances over her glasses with a smirk. “Quiet isn’t in his vocabulary, is it?”

Rodolfo overhears and grins cheekily. “I’m quiet but deadly.” He imitates a gun by shaping his hand.

I scrunch up my face, puzzled. Who taught him that phrase, anyway?

I advise, “Rodolfo, maybe let’s steer clear of ‘deadly,’ okay? How about ‘quiet but fun’?”

He wrinkles his nose. “Not macho.”

I sigh, massaging my temples.

Alice hands me an envelope. “Here’s his passport and allthe paperwork you’ll need. Plus, two first-class tickets back to Helena.”

“Thank you.” I manage a smile.

I can’t help but think the tickets might be D’Souza’s way of making a guilty payment, but hey, it’ll sure make traveling with this little whirlwind a bit easier.

With just a small backpack holding Rodolfo’s spare clothes and a few toys, we head to my hotel for a laid-back rest of the day. Over lunch, we dive into some lively rounds of Overwatch. Throughout the game, Rodolfo tests out a jumble of new English phrases he’s picked up from who knows where. His eclectic choice of words turns him into a bit of a mystery box, but it only adds to the charm of our afternoon, making it unexpectedly delightful.

“So, we are going to America tonight?” he curiously asks while I pack our things.

“Yes.”

For a few moments, he stares at his own lap.

My gut is filled with unease. “What is it, Rodolfo? You don’t want to go?”

“So, Abuela is really gone?” He sighs, referring to Marta.

His statement shakes me. Didn’t anyone tell him Marta is dead?

“Yes, Rodolfo, she died,” I tell him straight, worried that ‘gone’ might mean something else to him. “The bad guys got her.”

I preserve the space between us, gauging his reaction without being overbearing.

“So it is true.” He stops to ponder once again. “Tía abuela told me.”

“Did you mean your grandmother’s sister?” I take a guess.

He nods. “She told me, but I did not believe. Abuela wentto the market, but she did not come back. I thought maybe she just went somewhere else.”

So he doesn’t know that Marta went to see Valentina’s remains. I will keep it that way until he’s old enough to face the truth.

I shift myself closer, feeling the timing is right for physical contact with him. I take his hand and pull him close. “I’m sorry, pal. I really am.”

“Is it the same bad guys that took Mama?”

“Yeah.” I stroke his back.

“Now I understand,” he says, shifting his gaze to the window. “Abuela said I will live with her, um…temporalmente, not forever.”

“Temporarily?”

“Yes. Yes. She knew the bad guys were coming.”

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