“Uh, the entire time she was shooting your interviews.” Darnell shook his head. “Man, you are clueless.”

Andy supposed in hindsight that maybe Libby had been flirting with him a little bit. “She laughed a few times, that’s about it.”

“Yeah, she doesn’t do that.”

“Doesn’t do what?”

“Laugh.”

Andy turned and glanced over his shoulder at Libby. The river came up above her knees. She was walking with Diego and making a funny face at Camila.

Turning back around, Andy said, “She’s pretty dorky.”

“Said the guy who spent thirty minutes yesterday telling me about his pog collection.”

“I don’t think she’s my type.”

“Oh, and Farah is?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Dude, I’ve seen her Instagram.”

“So? What about it?”

“Guess how many Instagram followers she has?”

“Three million six hundred thousand.”

“That is oddly specific and, yes, correct. And do you know what the last picture she posted was?”

“Probably something from when we were in Miami.”

“Yeah it was. It was a picture of her at the airport. I saw her take a hundred selfies, then finally post one.”

“What’s your point?”

“How many Instagram followers do you have, Andrew?”

“Um.”

“Eighty-seven. You have eighty-seven followers and the last picture you posted on there was three months ago: a picture of your cat.”

“It’s not my cat.”

“Okay, that’s even worse. A picture of someone else’s cat.”

“Pixel is my neighbor’s cat. He comes over sometimes to say hi.”

“Your life is really sad.”

“I agree,” Andy said, chuckling lightly.

“Someone with eighty-seven followers and someone with three million followers—it never works out. Trust me.”

“That’s not true.”

“It was for me. I dated a girl who had seventy thousand followers, and guess what I spent most of my time doing on our dates?”

“Taking pictures?”

“Yes, Andrew. Taking pictures.”

“So you think I’m better off with a girl like Libby. How many Instagram followers does she have?”

Darnell made an O with his hand.

“None?”

“That’s right,” he said with a smile. “Zero.”

≈

Ten minutes later, they exited the river and entered the jungle. After a fifteen-minute hike, the stone pyramid came into view.

They’d cleared most of the vegetation cloaking the pyramid the previous day, and at the sight of the magnificent structure, Holland said, “You guys weren’t joking. That’s a bloody pyramid all right.”

Andy and the others made their way around to the back of the pyramid, to the cache of offerings.

Roth wended his way through the fifty-two green stakes placed the previous day. Close on Roth’s heals, Andy stopped when he heard Roth let out a loud curse.

Andy followed his gaze to the bare ground.

The golden statue of Inti, the silver alpaca, and the tumi.

They were all gone.

≈