“Over, under, or through,” Edilio said. “There’s got to be a way.”
“Kind of like when your folks came over the border from Mexico, huh?” Quinn said.
Sam and Astrid both aimed shocked looks at Quinn.
Edilio stood even straighter and, despite being six inches shorter than Quinn, seemed to be looking down at him. In a calm, quiet voice Edilio said, “Honduras is where my folks come from. They had to come all the way through Mexico before they even reached the border. My mom works as a maid. My father is a farmhand. We live in a trailer and drive an old beatee. I still have a little accent because I learned Spanish before I learned English. Anything else you need to know, man?”
News of the psychotic breakdown incidents had brought her to Tokyo, though so far she had made little progress in her investigations with officials so tight-lipped. It was with a headache that Naoto entered the coffee shop, taking a seat at the counter and appearing lost in thought until the barista approached her. She looked up at the dark-haired teen, then at the menu. “I’ll have the house blend.”