"Really?" I ask.
Julieta rolls her eyes. "More like we didn't choose the correct option."
"The correct option?"
"We had to pick whether we were eating pancakes or something Dirk caught for breakfast."
"Dirk?"
"He's big into fresh meat," Malin explains.
"Oh. Can I just say I'm relieved that means we're having pancakes?" I admit.
"Agreed," Penelope says. "I'm tired of jungle food."
"Can I help?"
"I think we have it handled, but pull up a stump and stay. We can chat." Julieta wiggles her eyebrows.
Oh jeez. She must have heard us last night.
Ryker snorts.
Hunter sets me on the ground and takes his flip-flops out. "Someone needs to go to town and get the ladies some essentials."
"I'm sure Andre will let us go," Ryker replies. "He hasn't come out yet."
Axel stands. "Have a seat, Vanessa. Hunter, we need to talk in private."
"Thanks." I sit.
The four men step far enough away we can't hear.
"So. How was your night?" Julieta smirks.
"I don't have any complaints. Do you have any?"
She snorts. "I bet you don't."
I look in Hunter's bag for a comb. "Nope. Slept like a baby. You?"
"Umm, would you call that sleep?"
I shrug and find the comb then use it to detangle my hair. "Best kind in my book. Okay, Hunter needs to use conditioner."
"Not everyone is as up to date on women's grooming supplies as Santiago Gómez," Penelope huffs.
I shudder at the thought of him.
"Hey, did you find out where they are supposed to be taking us?" I ask.
Both women shake their heads.
"No. But neither of us can go back to our countries," Julieta says.
"I need to get out of Belize."
"Axel said we should find out today what is going on," Penelope tells me.
"Guess we can't stay here forever," I tease.
Penelope stirs the contents of the bowl faster. "Do you think it's strange how Naomi and Emilia showed up, and Interpol came to rescue them right away?"
"Well, I'm glad they were able to find them so quickly," I reply.
"That's not what I mean."
"Sorry. What are you getting at?"
"How did their intel have paperwork on all of us for the guys? Did they know about us for months but only rescued us because Naomi and Emilia were there?"
"Naomi asked the same question last night," I inform them.
"They could have just rescued Naomi and Emilia," Julieta says.
"No. I spoke to Axel about it. He said that Interpol teams would come back and rescue others if they didn't know about us and discovered us during a mission. So their intel pretty much had to tell them about us, or it could have put the team in more danger and cost them more money."
Julieta pours her mixture onto the griddle. The smell of pancakes hits my nostrils and my stomach growls.
"Tell me they have syrup," I mutter.
She reaches down into a plastic crate and pulls it out.
"Yes."
"Vanessa, focus," Penelope instructs.
"Oh. Sorry. I don't know what to tell you. We all know things we are keeping secret. Does it matter at this point?"
Penelope blinks hard and puts the bowl down. "Eighteen months. That's a year and a half of my life and my daughter's. And who knows where she is."
I rise and put my arm around her. "Hey, I didn't mean to be insensitive."
An ocean of tears covers her face. She shrugs out of my grasp and walks away.
"Penelope," I call out.
Axel jogs over. "Where is she going?"
"She's upset about her daughter," I say.
Axel's eyes widen. "She has a daughter?"
"Yes. She doesn't know where she is. Didn't her paperwork have her daughter listed?"
"No. It didn't." He takes off after her and shouts, "Penelope." She doesn't look back and disappears into the woods.
Emilia steps out of the tent, and Malin goes to her. Hunter and Ryker join us.
I turn to Hunter. "Wouldn't her daughter be on her paperwork?"
"It should be, yes."
"What would be a reason for it not to be?"
He furrows his brows and stares at me.
"What?"
He lowers his voice. "If someone is deceased, they wouldn't list it."
My hand flies to my mouth, and goose bumps pop out on my skin. "No."
"There could be an error. Or possibly another reason we aren't aware of. We need to talk to Interpol before we jump to the worst conclusion possible," Ryker says.
"Was her daughter in Panama with her?" Hunter asks.
"We don't know. She wouldn't give us details. She was with Santiago the longest, and they did a lot of things to her, according to Zoe."
"What kinds of things?" he growls.
I jump.
"Sorry, Flower. What kinds of things?" he repeats, softer.
"Zoe never said. There were a lot of things we talked about but didn't go into detail. There was kind of an unspoken rule that if someone didn't want to talk about anything, we didn't press the issue."
"Because of the secrets you all have?"
"Yes."
Hunter sighs. "Let's eat breakfast. We can't do anything until we talk to Interpol. Penelope is going to have to give us more information as well."
"She won't," Julieta says.
"She has to, or we can't help her," Hunter sternly replies.
"Are you able to guarantee her that her child won't get harmed?"
"We would never hurt a child," Hunter barks.
I jump again.
"Calm down, Hunter," Ryker orders.
"What if she tells you and it makes things worse?"
Hunter scowls. "What are you insinuating, Julieta?"
She glares at him. "I'm not accusing you of anything. But you don't know what any of us are dealing with, so you can't just issue commands and expect us to comply."
"Issue commands? What the hell are you talking about?" he angrily asks.
"Hunter!" Ryker barks.
She steps toward him. "Talking gets people killed."
He throws his hands in the air and growls, "We can't help you if you don't tell us."
I'm standing on the side of Hunter. The way his hands fly in the air triggers a flashback of Carlos's hand before he hit me after I told him I didn't want to marry him.
I crouch and cover my head, with my heart beating in my throat.
"Way to go," Julieta says.
"What's your problem?" Hunter crouches down, but his voice is harsh, and I stay in my cocooned position as sweat breaks out on my skin. "Sorry, Flower." He puts his hand on my back, and I flip out.
"Don't touch me," I cry out.
"Flower—"
"No! Get away!" I yell. Tears fall, and my insides shake so hard, I think I might vomit.
"Move away from her," Julieta seethes.