To show her gratitude, she made sure to mend any rips in his sleeves before his father could see. She’d also written him a note and slipped it under his door. Normally, he was the first to write. So, she thought he might find it special that she had taken the lead.
A bit of her softened at the thought of a younger version of him. She eyed the man who was a stranger to her, but also not, and her heart squeezed.
“You may join me, but on one condition,” she said.
“No,” he panted. “No conditions.”
“I can’t have some random person inside a cage with me when I’m dressed like this.” She gestured toward herself. She knew she looked amazing, thanks to her friends. And she could tell Ignacio thought so too by the way his eyes went to anything but her. “I’ll let you in, but you must be in a costume.”
“I don’t see too many clothing options nearby.”
She smirked. “I’ll make do.”
4th of December, 1916. D+P: Age 13
Dearest Pigeon,
I’ve learned my lesson. The next time a windstorm sweeps through Río Norte, I shall tie my scarf in knots around my throat. I patched up all the tears in it with the pretty scraps of cloth that I’ve been saving. I’m like a squirrel, always storing little treasures away for the winter. Even discarded things can come in handy.
Anyway, thanks for retrieving my scarf. I think I might just love it even more than I already did.
Because of the lovely patches.
Not because you rescued it for me.
But thanks, I guess.
Dovie
Chapter 16
Ignacio
“I refuse,” he said.
Esmeralda smiled. A genuine, bright-as-the-sun smile. One that would melt the rubber soles of anyone’s shoes right to the concrete.
“Come on, Ignacio. It’s the only option we have,” she replied.
“Taking my shirt off cannot be the only solution to this problem.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be such a bore.”
That hurt. She must really think him the dullest man to ever live, especially now that she’d surrounded herself by stars. How could he compete?
Esmeralda squeezed her face against the cage bars and peered toward the front of the procession. “We’re nearing the city now.” She whirled around. “I’ve got to get you to at least look like you belong in this cage with me.”
He felt another sting; this time it hit him right in the chest. She was right, he didn’t belong. Not here. And not with her.They weren’t meant for each other like he once thought. Their lives were so vastly different. He had a war to end. All she cared about was having her name on billboards.
“I’ll do this,” he said. “Then you will answer my questions.”
“Every single one of them.”
Grumbling, he tore off his jacket and then yanked his button-up shirt over his head. He folded them both and placed them in a neat pile to the side.
“Still like to keep things tidy, I see,” she said.
“Some habits die hard.” Like the way she made him laugh even if he didn’t want to, or the way she made his stomach dip to his knees.
