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do that?”
    “I don’t know. Something’s not quite right about her. He thought she might be a kidnapping victim.”
    Elias groaned.
    “Think about it,” she continued. “He could have sold her, locked her in a filthy stash house somewhere, or done any number of awful things to her, but instead he brought her to my center. I think he wanted her to be safe.”
    As the words tumbled out, Victoria realized that, like the coyote, she was undeniably drawn to a situation she knew nothing about.
    “Have you called the authorities?”
    “Here’s my dilemma; missing persons won’t bother to take any time to figure out where she belongs. They’ll hold her as if she’s a criminal until they turn her over to INS.”
    “How do you know she isn’t?”
    “And if they can’t communicate with her, they might put her in a mental institution, which is just as bad. No, worse.”
    “This is complicated. Why can’t she communicate?”
    “She refuses to—at least for now.”
    There was silence at the other end.
    “It’s Friday. Best case, they’ll lock her up somewhere for the weekend. No one will lift a finger to do anything for her until Monday.”
    “Is that so bad? At least she’ll be safe and off the street,” her uncle maintained, trying to appeal to her common sense.
    “There’s only one thing to do. If I can’t get anywhere with her by the end of the day, she’ll have to come home with me.”
    The response was a heavy sigh.
    “Are you still there?”
    “These things you do, mijita, they’re just not safe. I know you mean well, that you want to help, but why does all this responsibility belong to you?”
    “You mean I’m not my brother’s keeper?” she asked, knowing that it was unwise to use religion to sway a bad Catholic like Elias. As a further testament to her hypocrisy, she reached for the chain around her neck, from which was suspended the delicate golden cross that had belonged to her aunt. She rubbed it between her thumb and index finger like a worry stone.
    “It’s only that you seem to go out of your way to have so many brothers! And you make us worry.”
    “It’s only for the weekend. I promise.” Victoria made a visual sweep of the parking lot and let the chain fall.
    Elias sighed again, but this one was not quite as long. “What can we do to help?
    “Let Marta know I’m bringing a guest to dinner tomorrow night. Give her my love.”
    “After talking to you, I need a brandy.”
    “Wish me luck?”
    “Don’t I always?”
    She ducked back inside. Now she could concentrate.
    In her office, she flopped down next to the girl on the sofa.
    Rubbing her hands together, she offered an encouraging smile and said, “Let’s get to work.”
    Though her eyes were full of questions, the girl said nothing. Victoria sensed her every move being followed as she grabbed books from the shelf, scattering a few on the floor, hoping one of them would spark a comment, a memory, something. But the girl just stared, mostly into her lap but occasionally out the window, her expression so apprehensive that Victoria felt sorry for her.
    A while later Gracie entered, silver bracelets tinkling as she pushed books from the desk to the chair, and set down two cartons of Chinese takeout. “That border patrol agent you’ve been pestering finally called,” Gracie announced, offering one of the cartons to the stranger on the couch.
    She hesitated and then shook her head as she inhaled the spicy smells drifting from the boxes. “They just raided a chicken farm in New Mexico, and almost sixty workers were found handcuffed to pipes inside a tin shack. Some of them had legitimate visas.”
    “Get a list of who’s been detained,” Victoria ordered, grabbing a carton and plunging her chopsticks deep. “Not hungry?” she asked the girl. “Well, suit yourself,” she mumbled between mouthfuls.
    The girl’s eyes widened.
    “They’re chopsticks, see?” Victoria explained, snapping them together and sending a blob