"I think that girl has a crush on you," Vicente uttered in a low voice in the stillness of the night.
I was staring at the sky and its beautiful host of stars, listening to the music of the crickets and the gentle rustle of the grass, when the random statement came out of nowhere.
I looked at him across the small campfire. His round eyes reflected the flames. He had gained a bit of flesh in his cheeks, likely due to the extra rations Isabela had been giving him ever since she took charge of the kitchen staff in Kasily.
"What girl?" I asked, scratching an itch on my neck and reflexively slapping at it. My palm came up empty. False alarm—but I had already killed maybe twenty mosquitoes, and my hands, face, and neck were riddled with bites.
