In a land held captive, there’s . . .

NO PLACE FOR ANGELS

“Now tell me, where do you come from?”

“San Bernardino.”

“I do not think so. That is a poor village.”

“Certainly,” Raquel said coolly. “That is why I left it.”

Tia pursed her lips and turned to open the door.

“I do not know why you wish to lie to me, senorita,” she said, “but it matters not. I can try to protect you if you stay close to me. Kitchen work will be hard on those soft hands, but your private parts will be safe enough.”

“I do not need a protector,” Raquel said haughtily.

Tia turned and looked at her angrily.

“By tomorrow, you will think otherwise,” she said. “But then it will be too late.”