Page 63 of Cemetery Boys

“Have you guys talked to Rodrigo?” Luca asked, a hopeful lift in his voice.

Julian tensed, but Yadriel tried not to look at him, still under Omar’s careful watch.

“My brother,” Julian said tersely.

“No, we haven’t,” Yadriel replied.

Flaca sighed. “Rio probably thinks Jules ran away, too. They got into a huge fight a few days ago, and Jules hadn’t gone home yet.”

“That’s none of their business,” Omar hissed.

The thundering approach of a train filled Yadriel’s ears. As it passed overhead, the wheels clacked loudly, buffeting the air and reeking of diesel. Rocky, Flaca, and Omar seemed to be arguing, their voices impossible to hear with the passing of the train. Luca stood there cringing, plugging his ears with his fingers.

Donatello and Michelangelo tugged nervously against their leashes, and Maritza dropped to her knee, giving them scratches and offering comfort.

In all the commotion, Yadriel stole a look at Julian. He was staring at the ground, his hands balled into fists at his sides. The wind whipped his jacket and tugged at his white tee.

By the time the train passed, Omar looked just as disgruntled, but his mouth was clamped shut.

“Someone needs to tell Rio what happened,” Luca said. “But…” He trailed off.

They all looked ashamed, even Omar.

“Their place is right by Belvedere,” Flaca stepped in to explain. “And we’re too freaked out to go back…”

Yadriel inwardly sighed. He couldn’t really blame them for being afraid, could he? But at the same time, he was frustrated. Knowing Julian, there was probably nothing frightening enough to keep him from making sure his friends were okay. But still. Not everyone was as fearlessly reckless as Julian Diaz. Even his best friends.

He almost asked why they didn’t just call or text Rio, but he caught himself. Obviously, if they hadn’t done that yet, it was because they didn’t have cell phones to call or text him on.

“Have you told the police?” Maritza asked.

Omar’s laugh was sharp as knives and dark as coal.

“They wouldn’t listen to us,” Flaca said. “We made a police report this morning when he never showed up, but we couldn’t even give a description of the guy who jumped him. It was too dark to see anything.”

“I don’t remember, either,” Julian confirmed in a gruff voice.

What was it about his brother that set Julian off like that?

When Yadriel glanced at Julian, Omar’s eyes narrowed, trying to track what he was looking at.

“They wouldn’t even put out a missing-person alert for Jules,” Flaca continued.

“What?” Yadriel shook his head. “Why not?”

“Because he’s a Latino boy living in East Los Angeles with no parents,” Omar said, seething.

“They decided he was a runaway,” Rocky explained. “When a kid goes missing, they assume they’re at risk, so you get AMBER Alerts, calls in the media, and police searching and asking around. But if you’re a runaway?” She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“We can try talking to him—” Yadriel ventured.

Julian spun toward him. “No!” he barked.

Yadriel looked toward Julian on instinct. Quickly, he tried to turn away, but Omar’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe he’s heard something.”

“I said NO!” Julian shouted, so loud that Yadriel and Maritza both jumped, hit in the face with a wall of cold. Both their attention snapped to Julian. The muscles in his jaw jumped, nostrils flared and body rigid as he glared at them. His edges flickered.

Flaca, Luca, and Rocky glanced around to see what they were staring at and exchanged confused looks.