Page 5 of Shadows of the Past
Grabbing both their hands, I run. Our yard connects to a neighbor's house about two hundred yards away. My ankle throbs with each step, begging me to scream, but I push the pain down. Not now.Almost there. The twins pant beside me, struggling to keep up.
I spot Mrs. Marta's house and nearly collapse with relief when we reach it. I knock on the door as the girls look at me with questions swimming in their eyes.
A minute later, Mrs. Marta appears in a powder-pink bathrobe. Confusion transforms to concern the moment she sees us.
"Julia, what happened?" Her tone borders on panic.
She knows I wouldn't be here unless something is wrong.
"Someone's in our house. Can you please stay with the twins?" I'm almost breathless, only now realizing how the sprint affected me too.
"Someone at your place? Of course, but, Julia, did you call the police?" The mention of police makes me realize I haven't.
Damn it.My first thought was getting the girls out.
"No, could you call them, please? I need to make sure my parents are okay," I say, looking into my sisters' eyes. So much light, so much love in them.
"Julia, estás loca?" The old woman's voice pulls my gaze from the girls. I'm not crazy, but all I can think about is getting back to my parents.
"What?" I ask, confused.
"How can you go back alone? What if those men hurt you?" Her words carry a tone that tells me what I'm planning is the stupidest thing she's ever heard. I glance at Lupe and see my promise reflected in her gaze.
"I have to go back for them," I say, releasing the twins' hands.
I kneel to their level, looking at both of them.
"You'll listen to Mrs. Marta, understand?"
They both nod and my heart threatens to burst with how much I love them.
"Julia, please," Mrs. Marta's voice pleads.
"Call the police, please," I tell her as I turn back toward my house.
I barely make it ten steps before turning back to Mrs. Marta, still standing in the doorway, holding the hands of two souls looking at me like they're saying goodbye.
I don't know why this thought makes my heart clench. Maybe my subconscious already knows I won’t return, but I find myself shouting, "We have an uncle! Uncle Felipe in Mexico City!" before sprinting toward the house now swallowed by darkness.
I'm just yards from entering our yard when an explosion shatters my world.
My home—where mom and dad threw birthday parties, where dad taught me to dance, where the twins performed karate demonstrations—erupts into flames.
A cry of agony tears from my throat as my lungs seize. I run toward the house, but the heat hits my face and neck like a wall.
"MOM! DAD!" I scream, praying for any response.
I’m not sure how long I stay like that, but behind me, laughter cuts through the roar of flames, the voice raising goosebumps along my arms.
"Looks like our lucky day, compadre."
As I start to turn toward the source, all I manage to see is a flash of a grin and a glinting gold tooth—then, suddenly, something strikes me hard on the top of my head, and my world is engulfed by darkness.
Chapter 4
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Julia
