Chapter 1

Hector felt the bump and rattle of the small aircraft as its wheels touched down on the tarmac. Lights flashed by in the darkness as the plane decelerated. He also felt his left hand being tightly squeezed as if in a vice. Turning to his much younger and now only sister, Miranda gave him a brave but watery smile. He smiled back and gently squeezed her hand in return.

"It will be okay," he told her in their native Spanish. "The bad men can't get us anymore. We're in America now and they will protect us."

Only eight years old, she looked up at him with those watery brown eyes of hers and, after a few moments, tentatively nodded her head and laid it against his shoulder.

Softly squeezing her hand yet again, he turned his head to gaze back out the window, wishing desperately that he could believe what he'd just told her was true. Unfortunately, given what he and his sister had been through, trust wasn't something he had a lot of at the moment.

The fifteen year old watched as the private jet they were in bypassed the terminal and gates for the big jets. Large metal hangers were soon sweeping past and he wasn't surprised when, before too long, they slowed dramatically, turned and parked in one. Like a well-oiled machine, the flight crew had the plane quickly powered down, the door open and the stairs down. Hector undid his seatbelt buckle, as did his sister, but before they could get up he felt a large hand land on his shoulder.

"Just stay put for a moment, and let me check everything out, okay, Tory ... Miri?"

The tone of the deep voice, like so many times before, let him know it wasn't really a question. Looking up at the big, black man who had been their protector ever since he found them in the jungle, the teenager and his tiny sister simply nodded back.

Everything, evidently, was as promised because in a matter of minutes they were hustled down the stairs and into a waiting limousine with dark tinted windows. Miri clung to his hand with both of hers the entire time. From that point on, though, everything was pretty much a blur.

There was a lady named Marisa already in the car waiting for them. Whit told them they'd be staying with her and, for some reason, pretend she was their aunt. Hector didn't question it, even though her accent was wrong for that—hers sounded Mexican. She seemed nice enough, though, even if she did talk a lot. She didn't even stop when the car dropped them off in front of a four story building.

When he thought back on it later, Hector realized he really hadn't been paying much attention for a while. He did recall there being a doorman, and that they rode on an elevator to the ... honestly, he wasn't even sure what floor they were on. The only other thing he remembered, as his head hit the pillow, was their new aunt pointing out that Whit—their giant protector—lived in the apartment right across the hall. That gave him a little peace of mind, at least.

"Oh, Whit, they looked so lost!"

Sitting at the kitchen table, Clarence Whittaker glanced up at Marisa as she brought him a hot cup of green tea. Any caffeine at this point and he would be up all night—thought, truth be told, with the things he'd seen over the last two weeks, it probably wouldn't matter as sleep was going to be tough to come by anyway.

"That's as good a description as any, I suppose," he agreed.

After taking a long sip, he gazed at the children's new caretaker over the steaming cup. He'd known the pretty Latina for a few years now and was glad she was willing to take this assignment—especially considering what happened last time. Always the earth mother type, she'd be exactly what those two kids would need right now.

"Doc Rivers will be over in the morning to look them over. Jake will be by at 11 with their new documentation. And then, after you take them shopping for clothes and such, you can bring them by the school at four."

"You sure you want to drop them into school so quickly?" she asked, a concerned expression on her face. "That poor little girl didn't say one word the entire time. And do you think the two of them will do okay with everything being in English?"

Whit glanced back toward the darkened bedrooms where the two were sleeping before his eyes returned to Marisa. "With those two the sooner the better, I think." He stopped to take another sip before returning to the question. "Linda will be here over the weekend to evaluate them, and she can tell us what she thinks—but for now, my gut tells me they don't need any more time rattling around in those heads of theirs. Besides," he continued with a telling smile, "their English is better than mine."

A noise ... there was something ... something was out of place. Danger! Snapping straight away from a deep sleep, Hector shot up in bed in a bit of a panic. A few seconds passed before he remembered where he was—then he heard her voice.

"Tory?"

He saw the small silhouette backlit by the hall nightlight. All too familiar with both the person and the problem, he pulled back his sheets and scooted over in the bed to make room. In the blink of an eye, the slight frame of his sister was tucked up against him, with her pulling his right arm over her. He could feel her shake, as sobs wracked her body. He hugged her to himself and did his best to sooth her.

"I miss her so much." The words came out between her sobs. "Her and Merri. Oh, Tory!"

Tory could only agree, his soft voice choked with emotion. "I miss them, too, Miri. I miss them, too."

The noise level in the hallway went from very minimal to not far off from a live rock concert—and all it took was the ringing of the last bell for the day. Marisa couldn't help but laugh at the cacophony and chaos, as all the children piled out of their classroom doors.

"Hey, hey, hey ... no running you two!"

"Yes, Mister Whittaker."

Marisa had to admit, with his height, muscles, dark skin, and bald head, Whit cut one impressive figure standing there in the entryway. Just his voice alone had those boys quaking in their shoes, if not crapping in their pants. He definitely had that intimidating PE teacher vibe down pat. That scary vibe, however, had a totally different effect on her.

"Hello, Mr. Whittaker," she called nonchalantly from behind him.

He turned and gave her the barest of smiles and a nod. "Miss Hernandez."

"Oh, if only..." she mused privately to herself as she walked past him.

The crush of children rushing past her made forward progress a bit difficult at that moment, especially with the perpetual pain in her hip and left leg. Strangely enough, she was more amused by the whole situation than anything—feeling a bit like a salmon trying to swim upstream. Fortunately, the boisterous crowd of children and teenagers did lessen eventually. After a couple turns, she finally found herself walking down a mostly deserted corridor toward the music room, the sound of a solo violin leading her on.

Stepping into Mrs. Sylvia Woodrum's classroom, Marisa quietly found a seat and listened as Miranda played. While no expert in classical music or the violin, she could tell that Miri had really improved over the last few months of lessons. What made her smile every time, though, was how animated the little girl would get when she played—her long black hair swaying back and forth as she moved. Oh, if only to have the musical talent this precious little girl or her wonderful brother had in their pinky fingers!

The lesson over, Miri turned to put her violin away when she caught sight of Marisa. A smile lit up her face like the sun emerging from behind some clouds. With overflowing exuberance, she practically bounced over to her guardian—violin still in hand.

"Tía Marisa! Tía Marisa! You're early again. Did you hear me? Did you hear me?"

"Of course I heard you, sweetheart. You play so beautifully, just like your mother. But what did I tell you about speaking Spanish at school?"

"But it's after school, Tía," she replied with that absolutely adorable smile of hers. "Besides, " she said, switching back, with a twinkle in her eye and a nod toward her teacher, "it's okay, Mrs. Woodrum already knows Spanish anyway."

"Miri."

The child just stared back up at her with those huge brown eyes and cherubic innocence.

Reaching out with both hands, Marisa began running her fingers over the mischievous girl's scalp, as if looking for something.

Miri looked at her quizzically. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for horns," she replied, matter-of-factly.

"Tía!"

Marisa just laughed and pulled her niece—for that's how she thought of her anymore—into an affectionate hug and kissed the top of her head. "I'm just teasing you, chiquita. Now go put your violin away and behave while I talk with your teacher, okay?"

"Okay."

Watching the petite girl bounce over to her case, Marisa was warmed by a peculiar notion. So what if she could never have children now? She didn't have to give birth to Miri or her brother to love them.

"I must say, Mar, your niece has just blossomed since she started playing the violin again."

Marisa nodded, looking back toward Miri's teacher. "That she has, Sylvia. I just wish Hector would do the same."

"He still won't touch an instrument?"

"No," she replied, with a sad shake of her head.

"What does he do when Miranda practices?"

"He just listens and helps me do things right," the child replied, hearing her name mentioned. "He's a lot better than me. Mamá used to say he was a... child prodigy, " shifting at the end to the Spanish term her mother had used once.

"Do you think he really is that good," Sylvia asked, switching to French—they'd done this before—and nodding her head toward Miri, "or was that just her being his mother?"

"No, he really is that good," the girl replied, also in French, before her aunt could. "Mamá was just amazed that he was already better than her."

Marisa gasped out loud and looked over at her charge. "You can speak French, too?"

The girl just nodded her happy little smile.

"Why you cheeky little monkey!"

"Gentlemen, we do not stop 'til nightfall."

"What about breakfast?"

"You've already had it."

"We've had one, yes. What about second breakfast?"

"I don't think he knows about second breakfast, Pip."

Chapter 2 »