Two teenagers were screaming themselves hoarse. One turned to the other. “Let’s join ETA.”
An elderly couple held each other, and the woman said, “Now maybe they’ll give us back our farm.”
An old man stood alone in the crowd, silently watching the army trucks leave. When he spoke, he said, “They’ll be back one day.”
Jaime took Megan’s hand and said, “It’s over. We’re free. We’ll be across the border in an hour. I’ll take you to my aunt.”
She looked into his eyes. “Jaime—”
A man pushed his way toward them through the crowd and hurried up to Megan.
“Excuse me,” he said breathlessly. “Are you Sister Megan?”
She turned to him. “Yes.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ve had quite a time finding you. My name is Alan Tucker. I wonder if I could speak to you for a moment?”
“Yes.”
“Alone.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just leaving for—”
“Please. This is very important. I’ve come all the way from New York to find you.”
She looked at him, puzzled. “To find me? I don’t understand. Why—?”
“I’ll explain it to you, if you’ll give me a moment.”
The stranger took her arm and walked her down the street, talking rapidly. She glanced back once at where Jaime Miró stood waiting for her.
Megan’s conversation with Alan Tucker turned her world upside down.
“The woman I represent would like to see you.”
“I don’t understand. What woman? What does she want with me?”
I wish I knew the answer to that, Alan Tucker thought. “I’m not at liberty to discuss that. She’s waiting for you in New York.”
It made no sense. There must be some mistake. “Are you sure you have the right person—Sister Megan?”
“Yes. But your name isn’t Megan. It’s Patricia.”
And in a sudden, blinding flash, Megan knew. After all these years, her fantasy was about to come true. She was finally going to learn who she was. The very idea of it was thrilling…and terrifying.
“When—when would I have to leave?” Her throat was suddenly so dry, she could barely speak the words.
I want you to find out where she is and bring her back as quickly as possible.
“Right away. I’ll arrange a passport for you.”
She turned and saw Jaime standing in front of the hotel, waiting.
“Excuse me a moment.”
Megan walked back to Jaime in a daze, and she felt as though she were living a dream.
“Are you all right?” Jaime asked. “Is that man bothering you?”
“No. He’s—no.”
He took Megan’s hand. “I want you to come with me now. We belong together, Megan.”
Your name isn’t Megan. It’s Patricia.
She looked at Jaime’s strong, handsome face, and thought: I want us to be together. But we’ll have to wait First I have to find out who I am.
“Jaime—I want to be with you. But there is something I have to do first.”
He studied her, his face troubled. “You’re going to leave?”
“For a little while. But I’ll be back.”
He looked at her for a long time, then slowly nodded. “All right. You can reach me through Largo Cortez.”
“I’ll come back to you. I promise.”
And she meant it. But that was before the meeting with Ellen Scott.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
“Deus Israel conjungat vos; et ipse sit vobiscum, qui, misertus est duobus unicis…plenius benedicere te… The God of Israel join you together, and He be with you…and now, Lord, make them bless Thee more fully. Blessed are all they that love the Lord, that walk in His ways. Glory…”
Ricardo looked away from the priest and glanced at Graciela standing at his side. I was right. She is the most beautiful bride in the world.
Graciela was still, listening to the words of the priest echo through the cavernous, vaulted church. There was such a sense of peace in this place. It seemed to Graciela to be filled with the ghosts of the past, all the thousands of people who had come there generation after generation to find forgiveness, fulfillment, and joy. It reminded her so much of the convent. I feel as though I’ve come home again, Graciela thought. As though I belong.