He turned back to me. “You’re going to have to jump,” he told me. “I’ll get my father.”

I glanced out the window. There was not a tree or anything to hold on to, and it looked so high. I couldn’t jump. I would break all my bones.

As he turned, I clenched his hand, digging my fingernails into his skin. “No, don’t leave me, please.” I was being selfish, but couldn’t help it. “I can’t jump. It’s too high.”

“You can do it. It’s not as high as you think. I’ve done it before.”

He was lying to give me courage, I could tell.

“I’ll help you.” His anger had faded in the face of our impending mortality. I, myself, had forgotten all the discomfort I usually felt at his proximity.

“Come on.” He extended his hand out to me. The flames were eating up the bedroom door and an unbearable heat filtered into the room.

I climbed on the window frame, clinging to his hand. He was trying to let go, but I wouldn’t let him. “Just jump, Catalina,” he said. Something had happened to his voice. I sensed impatience, fear. His gaze kept going toward the door. There it was, the coughing. His father.

I let go of his hand and shut my eyes. The next thing I knew, there was excruciating pain throughout my legs. The ground was hard, dry, and tiny rocks dug into my palms and knees. Too weak to get up, I looked up at the window, but Franco was gone. He’d gone back inside to save his father.

CHAPTER 31 - Puri

CHAPTER 31

Puri

April 1920

Last night I had a nightmare. Cristóbal was lying at the bottom of the ocean with his eyes wide open and his skin bloated and purple. When his hand reached out to me, I woke up panting and covered in sweat. I’d been trying not to think about him ever since I started spending time with Martin. Such was my guilt. Was Cristóbal denouncing my betrayal? Blaming me for his misfortune?

I had to make it up to him. I had to find his killer.

But things were so muddled. I thought about Catalina. She was tormented by what had happened to Franco. She blamed herself for his burns, for his suffering, for rejecting his love. She said that after the fire, he was never the same, but she didn’t want to tell me how he’d changed and I couldn’t see the connection between the incident on the ship and her. Not after knowing that the relationship between Franco and Catalina had cooled after the fire.