A moment later he's guiding me onto the dance floor.
Santiago and I are surprisingly similar. A couple of days ago, I stumbled into a music room that I was informed belonged to him. He’s very good at playing the guitar although he only does it as a hobby. I was pleased to know he shared my musical talent.
We sway to the music and I debate mention that I found the music room. Eventually Santiago glances down at me.
"How are you settling in?" he asks conversationally.
I shrug. “Alright, I guess.”
His brow lifts. “What a glowing endorsement.”
I smile faintly.
“I can’t complain, honestly. This is all so beautiful and I’m grateful I get to experience it all. I’m just not sure how to feel about it at times.”
The music swells around us. Santiago studies me carefully.
“You mean you’re not sure how to feel about our father?"
The question is loaded and hits the nail right on the head.
I hesitate. “He seems to care."
The response earns a strange look. One I can't quite decipher.
Then Santiago laughs, hollowly. It’s completely devoid of humor and my stomach tightens.
"What?"
His gaze drifts across the ballroom. Towards Ignacio who is too busy trying his best to charm half the room
"That feeling in your gut whenever you’re around him?” Santiago says, “Listen to it. And be careful."
A chill slides down my spine.
"What do you mean?"
His jaw tightens.
For the first time all night, genuine emotion flashes across his face. Bitterness.
"I mean don't trust him."
Confusion crashes into me. I can understand feeling weird around Ignacio. I just met the guy. But Santiago’s known him his whole life.
"He's your father."
"Exactly."
The words come out sharp.
Cutting.
"Which means I know him better than anyone."
My pulse quickens.
"Santiago."
