I was becoming paranoid. My window was open. Snakes abounded in the country. Besides, if someone had wanted to kill me, they would’ve found a more efficient method. The minute I thought this, the snake stuck its tongue out at me as though attempting to shoot poison. I shivered and rushed toward the door.

It could be a coincidence, but what better way to get rid of me than provoking an accident with a snake? No one would think it had been done on purpose.

I couldn’t stand being here one more minute. In front of the mirror, I attached my facial hair, put on Cristóbal’s spectacles and robe, and dashed out of the room.

There was someone coming toward me in the hall. I gripped the door handle. That someone was holding a candle.

“Don Cristóbal, what are you doing here? Is there something wrong?”

Julia.

I fought my impulse to scream. A man wouldn’t do that. Instead, I let go of the doorknob and fixed the collar of Cristóbal’s smoke jacket.

“There’s a snake in my chamber,” I said as calmly as I could muster.

“A snake? Virgen Santa. I’m so sorry, Don Cristóbal, that’s very common here, especially on cooler nights, such as this one.”

She called this a cool night?

“Allow me.” She entered the room.

A few minutes later, she came out, snake in hand.

“Good thing you didn’t touch it yourself,” she said. “These snakes are poisonous, and they attack when they smell fear, but I have been around them all my life so I’m not afraid of them.”

She walked past me as if she were carrying a tray of tea instead of a live snake.

“Good night,” she said.

I stood there for a moment, hand on my chest. If someone wanted to persuade me to leave, they were on the right track.

CHAPTER 14 - Angélica

CHAPTER 14

Angélica

Vinces, 1907

“Thanks for saving my life yesterday,” I told Juan.

He was sitting under his favorite tree, holding a long bamboo stick.

When he looked up, my heart thumped against a shield of ribs and flesh. He was so handsome.

I had to pretend things hadn’t changed between us in the last twenty-four hours when he’d held my hand for the first time. I had to treat him like I always had, like a good childhood friend, even though we weren’t kids anymore. He’d turned fifteen last month and I was thirteen.

I shivered, remembering the feel of his hand tightening against mine as he saved me from falling from the bridge yesterday. There had been a loose board on the bridge that fell in the river when I stepped on it. I’d lost my balance and nearly fell into those deep brown waters.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he said. “Anyone would’ve done the same.”