She showers, dresses, clips on her fanny pack and sets out once more from the dusty lot in Tijuana’s Zona Norte at 3:30 p.m., another day of searching for her lost son Pedro. Her pace is sure and quick on the crowded sidewalks caked with decades of grime and refuse. She passes stalls selling secondhand shoes, old video-game systems, car parts, television sets. The faces — vendors, prostitutes, junkies — are... More >>>