Page 90 of Benjamin and the Thief

One day very soon.

“My parents,” Santiago suddenly said, shooting up from the couch. “I have to call them.”

“Not tonight. You can talk to them tomorrow.”

He knew from Amaury that he’d already arranged for a Scanguards contact in Mexico to talk to Santiago and Catalina’s parents. By now they would be aware that whatever the press was reporting about Catalina wasn’t true, but that they could not talk to anybody about it, because it would endanger her. Sometime after the funeral, Scanguards would arrange a video call for the Vargas family to assuage all their fears.

“You should get a good night’s sleep,” Benjamin suggested. “Tomorrow will be a long day.”

“The funeral. I can’t deal with people, and I don’t have any money to pay for it.” He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes wide. “Oh God, what about a casket? What am I gonna do? I don’t even know where to start.”

Benjamin put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s all arranged. You don’t have to do anything. You just need to be there. I’ll be there with you. It’ll be small, but the press will be there. It can’t be avoided. They will want to speak to you, but you don’t have to say anything to them. You don’t have to answer any questions. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“And I got you a black suit. You had nothing suitable in the closet in your flat.”

“I…” Tears welled up in his eyes again, and he choked up.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to say anything.”

There were only a few real mourners at the grave where the minister spoke a prayer. Benjamin was certain that the rest were looky-loos. The press was easy to spot with their cameras and microphones at the ready. It was overcast and cool. The casket was simple and covered with white lilies. His mother, Nina, had arranged everything. She wore black pants and a thick black jacket, sunglasses covering her eyes despite the lack of sunshine. They flanked Santiago, who stood there, sobbing uncontrollably.

Benjamin couldn’t wait for the short service to be over, because he didn’t want Santiago to suffer any longer than absolutely necessary. Therefore, he’d spoken to the minister earlier and let him know that there would be no eulogies, just a lowering of the casket into the already dug grave and a prayer.

When the last word was finally spoken, Benjamin took Santiago by his elbow, steering him toward his Porsche.

“Come,” he said gently.

The members of the press immediately stalked toward them, but Nina stepped in.

“Santiago won’t be answering any questions. Please respect his privacy,” she demanded.

Quickly, Benjamin opened the passenger door of the Porsche and ushered Santiago inside. He motioned to his mother, indicating that they would see each other later. She’d driven in her own car.

Before the press could beleaguer the car, Benjamin drove off. For a few minutes, he didn’t speak. He knew now was the time to tell Santiago the truth about Catalina. But this wasn’t an easy conversation to start.

“Now that the funeral is over, there’s something I need to tell you,” he finally started.

Santiago looked out of the passenger side window, his slim frame sunken in as if he’d given up on himself. “Mmm?”

“Catalina wasn’t in that casket.”

Santiago whirled his head to him, staring at him in disbelief.

“She didn’t die from the gunshot wound.”

Santiago gasped. “What? What is this? Why are you saying this?”

He pointed back in the direction they were coming from. “We were at her funeral.”

“That was for the press and the public. They can’t ever find out that she survived.”

“But I don’t understand…”

“There is something that will be very hard for you to accept. She is alive, I swear. But she’s different now.”

“What do you mean by different?”