Tuesday, June 12, 2012


As Aggie lay on her hotel bed two thousand miles away, images of her brave San Salvadorian savior played continually in her mind. Why had he done it? Did he save Brady and herself because he thought she was pretty or because they might give him a reward? Or was there a sense of honor among the drug gangs that most Americans knew nothing about?

And what was happening to him now? Was he lying in a hospital bed or a jail cot? How long would he be a prisoner for his crimes? Was there any possibility of finding him, of ever seeing him again? Of even learning his name?

Society had taught her to hate drug dealers and gangsters, but she couldn't stop picturing his strong arms holding her as she drifted to sleep.

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