The library’s walls were glass and the entrance to the bathroom was clearly visible. Any adult could see it, she thought between drags on her cigarette, not taking her eyes from the scene. The girl headed off in the direction her father had indicated. That was the only thing to do: the girl could only look at her father, his charming eyes, and do what he told her to do. The child went up the steps and passed a few inches from her; dirty white dress and long, loose, tangled hair, she was unmistakably beautiful. She went hopping by, capricious and flirty, taking each step as if playing.

She turned around and watched the little girl go into the library. She saw her follow the route laid out by her father, because surely he was her father—although what kind of father would send a six-year-old girl to the bathroom alone?—and then she focused her attention again on the man, who lowered the kickstand, checked to be sure the bike would stay up by itself, and sat across from her at the other end of the curved steps.

He was wearing a white T-shirt and tight gray jeans. He must have been around thirty. Thin, not very tall. Dark-skinned with light eyes, his hair slicked back, his beard carefully untended. He sat with his legs wide open and he leaned forward, bringing his fists together and curving his back a little. She was wearing a blue dress and her back was also a little curved, as always. Surely men noticed things like that, she thought. She looked him straight in the eyes. He accepted the look and, after a second, glanced away. He was handsome, of course, and he knew it, and he deflected those little glances. And also, she thought, he was a man waiting for his daughter to come back from the bathroom any second.

She kept looking at him, somewhat shameless but also calm. Because it wouldn’t go any further than that. She took it as a game, a water-gun duel. She wouldn’t invest anything, she’d toss the bottle into the sea without even putting a message inside. She smoked her cigarette in a more affected manner now, as if she were a movie villain. Using thumb and forefinger. During the time it took to burn, he returned her glances a couple of times. Serious, almost offended.

The cigarette took some three minutes to burn down.