I approached the safe, its black metal surface gleaming in the dim light.

Opening the small safe, inside I found a small notebook and an unsealed envelope.

Within the notebook, Emilia had made a series of short notes, each appeared to be written in some kind of code. It was illegible to me. 

However, flipping to the final written page, I saw that she had written some sort of journal entry. 

No date, but I read:

My hands shake as I weigh and pack his resin. It will not be found… but will I? 

He has promised to leave me for dead, somewhere deep in the surrounding jungle, if I refuse his orders.

Even in my rare time amongst the others, there is no one to call friend–no one to ask for help. 

He has made himself my world, and, while I thank god every day he does not touch me, I cannot bear it much longer.

Mother, forgive me for what I do! 

Turning to the letter, I pulled the folded paper from the envelope--addressed to somewhere in Juarez–and read:

Dear Mother,

The devil you spoke of boards tonight, and by the time you receive this the deal will have been made.

It will not take long before R knows–there is no time to put everything back in good order. What I have stolen, he will not forgive. 

Pray that I find peace in some corner of the world where even he cannot find me.

May we see each other again one day! Hold on, mother. Help is coming. 

All of my love,

Emilia