Smiling at me, Chance was confident again, and I’d always loved that about him. Generally speaking, he didn’t indulge in long moments of self-doubt. He brushed past me on the stairs, carrying a carton of linens; he smelled of lemon, carambola, and rosewood, top notes from his cologne, Versace Man Eau Fraîche. Less familiar than the Burberry he’d once sworn by, but I didn’t smell of frangipani anymore either. By tacit agreement, we’d decided on a fresh start all the way.

My ex had been serious when he said he’d do whatever it took to be with me, including moving south of the border and starting a new life. The two of us had a complicated history, fraught with old mistakes and regret. But maybe this time our relationship had a real shot.

His building was simple stucco, painted canary yellow with azure trim, a bold color scheme typical of the neighborhood. Down the block, there was a house painted lavender and mint green. His new place had a fantastic view of the mountains instead of the crowded streets below. I stood by the window, lost in thought. Chance was lucky to find something close to Tia’s house. In Spanish, tía meant aunt, and I’d never been clear if people had been calling her Auntie so long it had supplanted her proper name. At any rate, she’d adopted me as part of her family; I felt like a favored niece with her. In recent days, she’d become my mentor as well.

After we’d returned to find my store in ruins, Tia let Chance sleep on the couch while he sought a place of his own; it took three weeks for him to locate a one-bedroom in the neighborhood. During his search, I sorted out the paperwork and paid the workmen with Escobar’s money; he was the rival drug lord with whom I’d allied to take out the Montoya cartel before they could kill me. The Montoyas put me on their hit list over the part I’d played in liberating Chance’s mother from their clutches. So maybe joining forces with Escobar wasn’t the smartest thing I ever did, but it felt like my only viable choice for survival at the time. Ergo, I made a pact with Escobar to destroy the Montoyas, and when we succeeded, I walked out with a briefcase full of money—well, enough to rebuild my pawnshop.