Annamaria had stayed with Marisol for about a week after. Though Horatio had eventually gotten a name, description, and address from her, it did nothing, as did the manhunt he'd put out personally on the accused. With Marisol's help, Annamaria found family a few towns over and moved in, after they were absolutely sure that she would be safe there. Occasionally, she would drop in and talk. Her bruises were beginning to fade, and they saw the happy, excitable, and charming young girl that was Annamaria. She was even in a healthy relationship with a boy she met when she's returned to school. Having her around was sometimes like having a daughter. She was the only one who could worck Horatio's nerves raw in agitation, but it was worth it, knowing she was safe.
--
The happy period lasted about 2 years before Marisol had met her violent and untimely death. Not only was it a period of darkness for Horatio, but one for Annamaria as well. As she'd drop by at least twice a week, her visits slowed and eventually stopped. Search as he might, Annamaria had dropped off the radar. He continued to work a search for her, carefully, underground. The only thing that kept him going was grief, and maybe even a sense of guilt. When she hadn't turned up 3 years later, he'd given up the search, and had nearly forgotten about her. Until she showed up in his office, that is.
--
"Don't call me that! Nothing. I'm fine," Annamaria snapped; but her eyes said otherwise.
"Okay. I won't push you now. But you will tell me later," Horatio murmured in her ear. Planting a fatherly, chaste kiss on her cheek, he straightened up and faced the agents.
"Consider this witness," he slid on his glasses, "Protected."
--
Two days later found Horatio, Annamaria, and an agent on a plane to New Jersey. The flight was only a few hours, but Horatio burned with questions that he could not ask in the agent's presence. Having Annamaria back in his life was like having a part of Marisol back..and he hung onto that feeling for dear life. He didn't want to lose her. Not again.
--
Annamaria sat between Horatio and the federal agent (his name was Higgins, perhaps?) and looked straight ahead for the length of the flight to..well..where ever they were taking her. She wasn't quite sure. She'd been in a daze ever since she'd been taken to the police department for protection. Seeing Horatio again..that...that'd brought back a lot of strong memories. Happy ones, like the night they'd met(though that one had been strangely bittersweet), Horatio, Marisol, they days she'd come to visit. It also brought back bad ones; living with Stefan, the abuse, Marisol's death and her steady decline back into the life she'd been saved from..things that gotten steadily worse after she'd stopped seeing Horatio and moved back in with Stefan. The drugs, the alcohol, the beatings, the guns, the physical and emotional attacks on her and the other girls..it was all too much. When Annamaria had found out that Stefan was having sex with girls younger then herself(only 12, 13, 14 years old) she'd confronted him. When she heard he'd been dealing drugs and robbing banks, she'd confronted him again. He'd slap her around, call her a bitch, and let her know that if she ever got the stupid idea to go running to the police, she'd be fucking dead before she;d even gotten outside. But when Liza turned up dead on the beach, that'd been it. She'd known it was him.