Cillian
ONE YEAR SINCE THE ATTACK ON THE MOUNTAIN—THE HERNANDEZ FARM, MEXICO
“Finished?” calls Carla.
I squint down at her.
She’s grown a foot in the last year, but she’s still got the full-faced rosiness of youth. Gaspar hops around her heels, barking noisily.
He hates not being able to join me up here on the roof.
“Almost,” I shout back down. “Is lunch ready?”
“It’s been ready for half an hour,” she replies. “Come down now before it goes cold.”
The kid’s freaking bossy. That hasn’t changed since the day I woke up here, twelve months ago.
Fuck—has it really been that long?
I wipe the sweat from my brow and climb down the ladder resting against the west-facing wall. I’m almost done with the roof. Another hour of work at most, but I don’t want to miss lunch. My stomach’s already complaining.
A long-dormant memory shoots through my mind like a lightning bolt.
“Tá ocras fooking orm.”
Sean’s grimace.
Those eyebrows, bushy and serious…
“Nope,” I say out loud. I shake the memory away and climb down the ladder. When I get close enough, I skip the last few rungs in favor of jumping down onto the dry earth below. A cloud of dirt kicks up around me.
Carla takes a step back, wrinkling her nose and coughing at the dust.
“Let’s eat,” I announce, slapping my hands together.
We walk back to the main house together, with Gaspar bounding around between Carla and me.
As we approach, I spot Diego coming from the barn. He’s still got a limp after the accident in the winter. But he’s made a fuck-ton of progress in the last few months.
We both have.
Carla notices the direction of my gaze. “He’s been in there most of the morning trying to fix the broken pillar.”
“Jesus, your father’s stubborn,” I mutter. “He shouldn’t be taxing himself.”
“That’s what I said. He told me to mind my own business.”
“He is your business.”
“That’s what I said.”
“Any comeback?”
“He told me to stop spending so much time with you.” She grins.
I laugh. “Maybe he’s got a point.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Carla say forcefully. “You’re my best friend.”