The Disappearance of Valentina Moreno

Chapter 25 ~ Verdict

It’s the day before my father’s sentencing, and on the outside, I appear calm as I sit in a cafe, waiting for Amelia and her brother Alfredo, but on the inside, anxiety crackles like dynamite. 

The chime above the door dings, so I glance up to see a handsome man removing his sunglasses. He appears to be in his forties, with dark, tightly cropped wavy hair and a white v-neck sweater that complements his deep tan. Amelia is behind him and gestures to me, which causes his mouth to pull into a smile. It makes him even more handsome as it lights up his eyes. He weaves around the tables towards me, and I notice the bouquet in his hand. 

“Valeria!” He extends his arms before reaching me, and I’m not ready for his enthusiasm as he scoops me up from the seat with a tight embrace. When he sets me down, he looks me in the eyes, a glimmer in his own, and says, “Dios mío, eres tan hermosa.”

“Se parece a Javier,” Amelia says, peering at me with pride.

“No, se parece igualita a ti.”

I glance back and forth between them, not understanding what they’re saying and wishing I had paid better attention during Spanish class.

“My apologies,” Amelia says to me, then turns to her brother. “Alfredo, she doesn’t understand us. We should speak English.”

“Ay, perdón,” he says, then corrects himself and takes my hands. “I’m sorry. I just can’t believe you’re standing here in front of us. I’m your uncle, Alfredo.”

“Hi,” I say.

“These are for you.” He hands me the flowers.

We slide into the booth, prompting the waitress to come over and ask if we would like coffee or need time to go over the menu. After a glance at the options, I already know I want the French Toast with caramelized plantains and honey-guava yogurt drizzle. Amelia orders a Florentine omelet, and Alfredo goes for a platter of scrambled eggs, sausage, hashbrowns, and a stack of pancakes. 

“I’m starving.” He smiles when the waitress walks away. “My flight was delayed, so I arrived late last night and didn’t get to eat dinner.”

“Lies,” Amelia laughs. “Don’t let him fool you. Alfredo es un comelón!”

“A what?” I glance from her to him.

“She’s saying I’m a hungry hippo,” Alfredo laughs and pats his flat stomach.

“But he hides it so well.” Amelia pokes his abdomen.

“I enjoy going to the gym.” He smiles, a blush on his cheeks.

“Me too!” I say. “Maybe we can go together while you’re in town?”

“I would like that.”

We fall into a comfortable silence as we sip our coffee and wait for our meals. Except, every once in a while, Alfredo’s phone chimes. He ignores it, but after a time, he looks at the screen to check the messages, then excuses himself and steps outside to make a call. Through the large diner windows, he paces back and forth, and the call seems to have agitated him as he furrows his brows and waves his hands, emphasizing his words. Amelia notices me watching him and clears her throat.

“Alfredo works in broadcast journalism as a cameraman, so for the last few days, his boss at the news network has been hounding him for an exclusive interview with the family. He’s not happy about their pushiness.”

“There was a journalist who showed up at my apartment the other day,” I reply.

“Margie Gil?” Amelia narrows her eyes, her mouth in a tight line.