Chapter 1

December 23, 2022

“Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, por favor ayúdanos. Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, por favor ayúdanos.”

Sick and desperate, fourteen-year-old Gabriela Hidalgo rasped the mantra for help to Our Lady of Guadalupe as she stood shivering in the wintry late afternoon. She had stationed herself at the entrance to the alley that ran along one side of a small restaurant in Willows, California. What she needed was a miracle.

She watched a new-looking silver Lexus SUV pull into the otherwise empty gravel parking lot.

The two young Latinas who emerged brought a sigh of despair because of the stark contrast with her own wretched condition. One was in her early twenties, the other looked like a high school girl. They exuded the confidence and impeccable style of those women who had it all. The older one was tall, dressed in expensive fitted jeans, a red cashmere sweater, and dark-leather ankle boots. The outfit was topped with a soft-looking hip-length dark-leather jacket. Her dark hair was cut in a fashionable bob. Her younger companion was pretty much a look-alike except her cashmere sweater was cream-colored, and her hair was much longer, held back with a silver and gold hair clip.

They could have stepped out of the current issue of Latina Magazine. What are they doing here?

Gabriela envisioned copies of that magazine, and others, strewn about the single chair salon her aunt operated from the front of her tiny house in Huntington Park, south of LA.

“Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, por favor ayúdanos...”

As the women walked the short distance to the front door of the restaurant, the younger one answered her phone and started talking in rapid-fire Spanish, waving her free hand around. The older one smiled at her antics and caught Gabriela’s eye. Gabriella quickly looked away.

Afraid? I’ve never asked anyone for money. I’m no beggar. A thief maybe – We left in the night. They were drunk, and I took Tía’s little stash of money for the bus. We had to get away. The man she’s with is scary and violent. He calls me his putita and wants to make me into a puta for his friends. I took María José and we ran away.

She coughed and winced as the pain lanced across her sides and back where he’d beaten her. She wanted to cry, but she had to be strong for her little sister. I tried but I can’t protect myself or my sister any longer from that man. Now we’re out of money and hungry, and in this place.

“Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, por favor ayúdanos...”

“It’s hot chocolate. It’ll warm you up.”

Gabriela jumped in surprise. She hadn’t heard the young woman from the Lexus approach. She’d been looking down the darkening alley, checking on her little sister. Gabriela had found some cardboard and placed it on top of a wooden pallet and now María José was huddled there under a small blanket, and Gabriela’s coat.

Essie Sinclair held out a paper to-go cup full of hot chocolate to the petite, dark-haired Latina. Not wanting to scare the girl she adopted a casual, non-threatening stance.

She tried again. “Es chocolate caliente. Te calentará.”

Daylight was fading and a cold north wind was flowing down the Valley.

Threadbare denim shirt over a T-shirt and jeans - the girl isn’t dressed for the weather. She can’t be more than thirteen or fourteen. What’s she doing by herself hanging around outside Mama’s Kitchen? Runaway? Not much doubt.

Mama’s Kitchen served the best Mexican hot chocolate Essie had ever tasted – even better than her mother made, which was saying a lot.

Of course, her mother had been gone for ten years, but the memory of those days coming home from school on a winter day to their snug ranch house and the smell of that chocolate was one of her cherished memories. Then her father died when she was fifteen, and everything went to hell.

The teen girl glanced at her for a second or two, and then down at the large paper cup, making no attempt to take it from Essie’s outstretched hand.

I’ve seen that look before; wary, beaten down, uncertain about who you can trust, often followed by a blank look which is essential in surviving as a teen on the run, or institutionalized, or worse, abused – don’t make eye contact, don’t draw attention, keep quiet.

Yes, she’d seen it before, in the mirror. She’d mastered the blank, disinterested look while she was in the foster system – three homes in three years. It was also a look worn by many of the girls when they arrived at the Magdalena School, her destination this late-December evening.

Essie took a sip of the dark Mexican chocolate and savored the rich taste of bittersweet chocolate, cinnamon, vanilla, and just enough cayenne to give it a bite. A stop at Mama’s Kitchen just off Interstate-Five in Willows, was a guilty pleasure just past the halfway point on the 135-mile drive north from Sacramento to the Magdalena School near Red Bluff.

She smiled, trying to reassure the girl. “Es bastante bueno. Deberías probarlo.”

The girl hardly looked at Essie as she reached for the cup. Holding it in both hands, perhaps enjoying the warmth, she raised it to her lips taking a tentative sip, and then another, and another.

When did she eat last?

Still looking down, she responded. “Gracias.” It came out in a hoarse whisper. Then she coughed – a dry rasping cough that racked her small frame. With each cough, the girl grimaced.

This girl is in pain.

Essie turned to go to the Lexus to get some water and was surprised to see her assistant, Estrella, already there.

I shouldn’t be surprised she beat me to it. She’s always one step ahead. I scoffed at the idea of an assistant until Felicity insisted and was backed up by Sofía Torres. They were right. Working for SpaceX Starbase in Texas and performing and recording with La Banda Sage would be impossible without Estrella.

Estrella unscrewed the cap and exchanged the bottle for the paper cup the girl was holding. She took a long drink.

“Gracias,” she rasped.

That cough sounds terrible, but that’s not what’s causing all the pain.

She tried to reassure the girl with a smile. “Inglés? Entiendes?”

The girl nodded. “Sí, lo entiendo ... I mean, I understand.” Again, the hoarse whisper.

So not a new arrival from Mexico. My guess, southern Cal somewhere.

“I’m Esperanza, but I go by Essie.”

The girl looked at her briefly, and then furtively looked toward the alley behind her, but made no response.

“And you are?” Essie prompted.

The girl took another long drink and looking at the plastic botted simply stated, “Gabriela.”

“Gabriela? What a pretty name. I’m from New Mexico, but now I live in Texas. What about you?”

A momentary look, and then a slight shrug.

Even that little movement caused her to flinch. Someone worked her over.

“I’m guessing you’re from southern California, or maybe Arizona somewhere. You’re really not dressed for winter up here in the north Valley.”

No response. This girl really has the abused or institutionalized kid down pat.

“Any idea where you’re heading?” Essie smiled, trying to put her at ease. “Or just sightseeing?”

Another non-response shrug. This time she tried to hide the pain. Dang, this girl is tough.

Essie glanced over at Estrella, who had stepped back. Estrella simply nodded.

One of the first students and graduates of the Magdalena School, Estrella knows what abuse is like.

“We’re on our way to the Magdalena School. It’s a place where you’ll be welcome and there are kind people there, and other girls your age ... and no one will hurt you.”

At those words, a range of emotions crossed the girl’s face, but the blank look quickly returned.

Hope, despair, resignation? She wants to be tough, but this girl is at the end of her rope. And now you’re wondering how I know you’re abused and a runaway.

“You’ll have food and a safe place to sleep while we sort out whatever trouble you’re in.” Essie waved her hand, indicating their surroundings. “You can’t stay here. It’s getting colder and rain is coming. More importantly, you’re hurt and it’s not safe.”

She paused trying to gauge the girl’s reaction, and then asked, “Will you come with us?”

Fear? Uncertainty?

And then the dam broke. The girl sagged against the wall dropping the water bottle, covering her face with her hands, as she sobbed. Her crying induced some wracking coughs, and obvious shudders of pain. Estrella returned to the SUV and came back with her parka. The girl flinched as Estrella struggled to wrap it around her.

What kind of abusive hell has this girl been through? One thing’s for certain, she needs medical attention.

She wanted to hug Gabriela and tell her things would be okay, but she feared inducing more pain and recognized that this girl had probably been lied to by adults all her life. She simply took her hand.

“Gabriela, please come with me.”

The girl looked up as Essie handed her some tissues, and then searched her face for some long moments.

Finally, some eye contact!

Eventually, she nodded as she tearfully whispered, “Sí. Ayúdanos. Por favor!”

Help us, please. Us?

A few minutes later they were on the road. Darkness had settled and rain spattered the windshield. Estrella sat in the back cradling Gabriela’s seven-year-old sister, María José. A worried-looking Gabriela was next to her. She called her sister, ‘MJ.’ They had a hard time rousing María José, and she barely moved as they lifted her from her makeshift shelter in that cold alley. Estrella carried her to the car, while Essie helped Gabriela.

What would they have done had we not stopped? I really don’t want to think about that. There is no way Gabriela could have carried her, or even continued to watch over her, because Gabriela’s hurt – she’s in pain and shows all the signs of physical abuse, and that cough sounds serious. María José is burning with fever. If we go to the hospital in Red Bluff, they’ll have to report this and these kids will disappear into the system.

Essie grimaced. Even worse, they could be turned back over to the abusers.

She caught Estrella’s eye in the rear-view mirror. “Estrella, get on the phone with Nurse Isabela at Magdalena.”

She pulled her phone from her pocket. “On it.”

I don’t need to tell her anything else, she knows exactly what to say to Isabella about our unexpected guests.

Essie put the pedal down.

Gabriela jerked awake from the pain and the nightmare. She shuddered as the nightmare lingered. Looking around, she breathed a painful sigh because there was no sign of the man – Roberto – the man who beat her as she protected MJ. Her gaze settled on the woman who rescued her.

Essie. That’s her name – holding my hand – she looks so worried. Should I be worried? I should tell her not to worry because Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe answered my prayer.

“You’re at the clinic and you’re safe here.”

She nodded, vaguely remembering arriving at the brightly lighted clinic and the faces of concerned people. The rest was a blur. It did seem like Essie was holding her hand the whole time. Now she was flat on her back in a hospital bed, with warm blankets covering her. She tried to sit up but the pain in her back and chest discouraged movement.

Essie said there was a clinic at the school. School? I guess that’s where I am. I fell asleep in the car and I hardly remember getting here. I do remember a doctor with strong arms and kind eyes carrying me into this place. I feel terrible. I guess I’m pretty sick.

Suddenly she started to panic. She tried to sit up, but the pain stopped her. “Dónde está MJ?” She rasped.

Still holding her hand, Essie pointed the short distance across the room at another hospital bed.

“The staff are helping her. She has a fever and they’re treating her to bring her temperature down.”

Gabriela watched a man and woman in white lab coats, and two Latinas dressed in green scrubs as they hovered over her sister. Also, next to the bed holding María José hand, was Essie’s friend.

I don’t remember her name.

“Your friend...”

“That’s Estrella. She carried María José in from the car and they seem to have become friends.” She smiled reassuringly. “When the doctors tried to get Estrella to step away, María José started to cry.”

“Oh ... I should be with her.”

Essie shook her head. “You’re both pretty sick, and she’s in good hands.”

“Will she be, okay?”

Gently squeezing her hand Essie said, “I’m not the doctor, but since she doesn’t have any other injuries ... I think she’ll be fine.”

Unlike me, you mean?

MJ is awake now. She’s looking scared. I should go to her, but I’m so tired and I hurt so much I can hardly move. That girl, Estrella is with her and holding her hand and talking quietly to her.

MJ sees me. Gabriela raised her arm slightly to acknowledge her. Ow! It hurts just to move my arm. I feel like I can’t catch my breath.

She watched the young sandy-haired doctor as he patted MJ’s hand and said something to her. He then turned and crossed the short distance to her bed.

Yes, that’s the man who carried me in. He’s frowning. Worried about MJ? Me?

He was trailed by the other doctor, a tall, attractive, short-haired blonde woman who looked to be about his age – late twenties, or early thirties. He used a button on the side of the bed to raise the head of the bed about halfway and then looked at the tablet he was carrying, “Señorita Hidalgo...”

Gabriela interrupted, and rasped, “Gabriela...”

“Okay, Gabriela.”

The doctor sat on a metal stool next to her bed. He glanced at Essie, before asking, “Gabriela, sientes tu más cómoda con el español?”

She gave just a slight shake of her head. “El inglés está bien.”

She paused, taking a painful breath, and then asked, “Will my sister be all right?”

He smiled. “Your sister asked the same question about you.”

He does have a nice smile.

“We’ve given her some medicine and fluids and her temperature is dropping already. I think it’s just a bad cold. She said she wants some soup, and that we should bring some for you too.”

Gabriela gave a fleeting smile, and in a shaky voice replied, “I’m glad. I could use some soup.”

“It’s on the way. By the way, I’m Doctor Prescott, and this is Physician Assistant Gaspar. I’m a pediatric resident at Saint Elisabeth Hospital in Red Bluff, and PA Gaspar works there too. We help out here at the clinic, usually one day a week.”

He smiled again. “We didn’t get much chance to chat when I brought you in from the car.”

Gabriela nodded.

He looked at Essie and asked Gabriela, “And who’s this?”

“She’s my friend, Essie.”

The doctor waited, but no more explanation was forthcoming.

“I have to ask. Do you mind if I discuss your condition in front of ... Ms.?”

“I’m Essie Sinclair. I used to work here ... summers. I’ve come for Christmas.”

The doctor nodded and turned his attention back to Gabriela, and asked, “So, you’re okay with Ms. Sinclair being here?”

Gabriela nodded slowly and grimaced as she took a painful breath. “I don’t mind.”

“Okay.”

The PA brought a flat screen on a wheeled table and turned it so Gabriela could see it.

“The X-rays show you have four fractured ribs.” He pointed at the screen. “Those are the new injuries. There’s also some healed fractures.”

Essie’s trying not to cry. She doesn’t want me to see, so she keeps looking away and wiping her eyes.

“Fortunately, there’s no evidence of damage to your internal organs. You do have early-stage pneumonia, and that’s causing the fever. That can happen with rib injuries because it hurts to take a deep breath.” He pointed at the IV in her arm. “I think those antibiotics will knock it out soon. I’ll also prescribe something for the pain, and that will make breathing easier. The device in your nose is called a cannula, and it gives you additional oxygen.”

He paused. “I’m going to keep you and your sister here in the clinic for a few days to make sure you’re recovering.” His smile returned. “And then I expect the nice people here at the school will find you a place to finish recuperating. Your broken ribs will take about six weeks to heal, but once we get your pneumonia under control, I’ll want you up and around.

“PA Gaspar and I are here every week, sometimes more often, so we’ll keep checking on you and your sister.”

She nodded. The last time Roberto beat me, I hurt for about a month. I guess we’re safe for a few weeks, but then what?

Dr. Prescott pointed across the room at a young Latina in green scrubs who was standing next to Estrella and talking to MJ.

MJ’s smiling. She must be feeling better.

“Nurse Lupe will be watching over you both tonight, and I’ll be checking on you too. The pain medication will make you drowsy, but she’ll wake you about every hour to have you take some deep breaths. I expect you’re pretty tired, but it’s very important that you wake up and take those breaths.”

Gabriela nodded.

Every hour? I’m so tired. I didn’t get much sleep on the bus. I just want to sleep, but I’ll be strong because Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe answered my prayer.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the doctor. “Now, let’s talk about you.”

She looked at Essie, who continued to hold her hand. What should I tell them? Will they send us back? Policía? I stole money and took MJ. Is that kidnapping?

Essie gently squeezed her hand, offering encouragement, as the doctor spoke. “When we undressed you...”

Undressed! Gabriela looked down and saw she was wearing some kind of hospital clothing.

“We discovered lots of bruising on your back and sides. That’s why I ordered the MRI along with the normal X-rays.” He paused seeing her questioning look. “The MRI machine looks inside your body so we could make sure there were no internal injuries. X-rays are good for seeing bones, but organs like your kidneys and liver don’t show up well. Fortunately, we didn’t find anything, although we’ll keep an eye on you for a few days and I’ve ordered another MRI for tomorrow.”

Gabriela nodded.

“From the bruising, I’d say someone beat you with their fists.” The doctor let that statement hang as he looked at her.

She squeezed her eyes shut trying to keep the tears at bay. How can I tell him? I don’t want to think about that man. He’s always hitting me ... hurting me. But I won’t let him hurt MJ.

She lost the battle and tears flowed. Her sobs turned into wracking coughs.

PA Gaspar handed her a plastic cup with a straw. After a short time and some sips of water, the coughs abated. She addressed her in a soft voice, “Gabriela, please tell Doctor Prescott what happened. We need to know how these injuries happened so we can help you ... and protect you.”

Fearful of the memory, Gabriela looked at Essie, who blinked away some tears, and then squeezed her hand and nodded.

“Sometimes...” Gabriela swallowed. “Sometimes ... at night ... MJ cries ... because she misses Mamá. Our Tía Elena’s friend, Roberto ... when he stays ... he gets enojado ... angry...”

She paused, barely holding back tears. “Roberto comes into the room...” He stinks of sweat and cigarette smoke and alcohol. “And ... and he yells at MJ and ... I have to ... protect her.”

I curl my body around her in the bed and he hits me ... and hits me.

She sobbed and covered her face as if she could make the memory go away, and prayed silently for strength. Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe ayúdame a ser fuerte.

PA Gaspar gently moved her hands and held the straw to her lips. “Please have a few more sips.”

Gabriela complied, but her fears hardly left her.

PA Gaspar took the cup from her and set it on a bedside table, looked at Dr. Prescott, and said, “I’ll call.”

He nodded.

Call?

Her sides ached as she rasped, “No, no, no ... We can’t go back there!”

Essie started to say something too, but Doctor Prescott cut them off. “Gabriela, you and MJ won’t be going back there.”

Can I trust him?

“The school has an attorney. PA Gaspar is going to call him.”

His voice softened. “I expect Mr. Cervantes, or his paralegal, Ms. Davis, will come to visit you and MJ, probably tomorrow.”

We’re nobody important. They’ll come on Nochebuena? We have no money.

She started to panic. “How can we pay?”

“Don’t worry, that’s all taken care of. One or the other will come and get some information about your Tía and this Roberto and then pay them a visit. They won’t bother you again.”

“Roberto ... He’s hombre malo...”

“Don’t worry, our attorney won’t go there alone.” He gave her a gentle smile. “Mr. Cervantes or Ms. Davis will take some hombres malos of their own.”

Tears falling, Gabriela closed her eyes and relaxed against the pillows, letting some of her fears and tensions drain away – fears and tensions that had gripped her since her mother died months before.

Gracias, Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe.

“She’s a courageous girl.”

Essie and Doctor Prescott stood in the hallway just outside the open door to the darkened room in the clinic where the girls were taken after being examined.

She shook her head sadly. “Orphaned and abused, but driven by concern for her sister. Even the terrifying unknown was better than what they fled. I’m sure I’ll be haunted by the question, what if I hadn’t stopped?”

He gently touched her arm. His eyes were warm. “Don’t be. As Gabriela said, you were the answer to her prayer, so let it go at that. Whether you believe in divine intervention or not, you were meant to be at that place at that time to rescue these girls.”

She nodded in gratitude. “Thank you.”

Essie took one more look at the girls. Gabriela had requested their beds be placed side by side since MJ couldn’t sleep with her because of her injuries. They had always shared a small bed at their aunt’s house. After they polished off bowls of thick chicken soup, and with the help of some mild pain medication, they had quickly fallen asleep holding hands.

A reluctant Estrella had left. She was staying on campus at the student cottage where her younger sister lived. She had vowed to return to check on MJ before she went to bed.

“I’ve been coming here once a week ... sometimes more, for over six months and I thought I’d get used to it by now...” His voice trailed off as he formulated his thoughts. “All the mental and physical abuse heaped on these children – the bruises, fractures, malnutrition, sexual abuse ... or just lack of basic medical care suffered by the girls who come here, make me sad and furious at the same time.”

He shook his head. “Lizette’s been coming for over a year, and she warned me not to let it get to me ... but every time I see the injuries, neglect, and fear...” He shook his head again.

“Lizette?”

“Oh, PA Gaspar. Lizette. I guess you were never introduced.” He smiled. “We got busy...”

This time, Essie touched his arm. “I’ve been coming here since the summer of 2018, and I know what you mean.”

She frowned. “Early on, I wanted to change my major to assassin, so I could track down animals like Roberto. But some smart people around here, like Headmistress Raniger, encouraged me to concentrate on the positives, especially the resilience of these girls.”

She paused. “My friend Estrella is an example. She and her younger sister, Lucia, were some of the first girls enrolled and they’d been horribly abused. The first time I met them we were out at the stables at the Moore’s ranch. Do you know Jim and Bonnie, and their son, Tom?”

Smiling, he nodded. “Doesn’t everyone in Red Bluff and the northern Valley? Actually, I grew up near here. Bonnie’s on the hospital board of trustees, and I consider Tom a friend.”