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once.”
    Mama nodded, almost bowing. “One more thing,” she said. “We will need a wagon to visit Abuelita. She is at the convent in La Purísima. I must see to her every few weeks.”
    â€œI will send one over this afternoon,” said Tío Luis, smiling. “A new one. And those clothes, Ramona! They are not fitting for a woman of your stature, and Esperanza looks like a waif. I will send a dressmaker next week with new fabrics.”
    In the nicest way possible, Esperanza looked up and said, “Thank you, Tío Luis. I am happy that you will be taking care of us.”
    â€œYes, of course,” he said, not even glancing at her.
    Esperanza smiled at him anyway, because she knew she would never spend a night in the same house with him and he would never be her stepfather. She almost wished she would be able to see his face when he realized that they had escaped. He wouldn’t be grinning like a proud rooster then.

    The night before the dressmaker was scheduled to come, Mama woke Esperanza in the middle of the night, and they left with only what they could carry. Esperanza held a valise filled with clothes, a small package of
tamales,
and her doll from Papa. She and Mama and Hortensia were wrapped in dark shawls to blend in with the night.
    They could not take a chance of walking on the roads, so Miguel and Alfonso led them through the grape rows, weaving across Papa’s land toward the Rodríguez ranch. There was enough moonlight so that they could see the outlines of the twisted and charred trunks, the burnt-out vines rolling in parallel lines toward the mountains. It looked as if someone had taken a giant comb, dipped it in black paint, and gently swirled it across a huge canvas.
    They reached the fig orchard that separated Papa’s land from Señor Rodríguez’s. Alfonso, Hortensia, and Miguel walked ahead. But Esperanza held back, and pulled on Mama’s hand to keep her there for a moment. They turned to look at what used to be El Rancho de las Rosas in the distance.
    Sadness and anger tangled in Esperanza’s stomach as she thought of all that she was leaving: her friends and her school, her life as it once was, Abuelita. And Papa. She felt as though she was leaving him, too.
    As if reading her mind, Mama said, “Papa’s heart will find us wherever we go.” Then Mama took a determined breath and headed toward the sprawling trees.
    Esperanza followed but hesitated every few steps, looking back. She hated leaving, but how could she stay?
    With each stride, Papa’s land became smaller and smaller. She hurried after Mama, knowing that she might never come back to her home again, and her heart filled with venom for Tío Luis. When she turned around one last time, she could see nothing behind her but a trail of splattered figs she had resentfully smashed beneath her feet.

T hey emerged from the fig orchard and continued through a pear grove. When they came into a clearing, they saw Señor Rodríguez waiting with a lantern by the barn doors. They hurried inside. Pigeons fluttered in the rafters. Their wagon was waiting, surrounded by crates of green guavas.
    â€œDid Marisol come?” asked Esperanza, her eyes searching the barn.
    â€œI could tell no one about your departure,” said Señor Rodríguez. “When the time is right, I will tell her that you looked for her and said good-bye. Now we must hurry. You need the protection of darkness.”
    Alfonso, Miguel, and Señor Rodríguez had built another floor in the wagon, higher than the real one and open at the back, with barely enough room between for Mama, Esperanza, and Hortensia to lie down. Hortensia lined it with blankets.
    Esperanza had known about the plan, but now she hesitated when she saw the small space.
    â€œPlease, can I sit with Alfonso and Miguel?”
    â€œ
Mija,
it is necessary,” said Mama.
    â€œThere are too many bandits,” said Alfonso.