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“I go home next week,” I say with a sigh, kicking off my sandals to slip my toes into the icy-cool water.Home isPapá’sprivate island in the middle of the ocean with no friends and no Edier, a load of hi-tech security, and invisible prison bars rising from the waves.
I can’t believe the last ten weeks have gone so fast.
“You’ll be safe there,” he reasons.
“I’m safe here.”
“Is this about you leaving all your adopted animals behind?”
“I’ll miss them.”I’ll miss you.“Sam says they eat stray dogs in China,” I blurt out with a frown.
“Sam isestúpido, remember?”
“But he’s right, isn’t he?” I glance up to find him watching me again. He’s never lied to me before but there’s a shadow of hesitation on his face. “Don’t,” I whisper, feeling frightened suddenly.
The shadow disappears.
“I won’t…ever.”
There’s a pause. “Can we try and rescue them?”
“Sure we can.”
It takes another second for this glorious news to sink in. “You mean, you’ll come to China with me?”
“¡Dios mío!You really are like the sunshine, Ella Santiago,” he teases, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Always trying to save the world, one blinding ray of light at a time.”
“I’m not trying to save the world, just dogs from turning into yukky soup. Uncle Rick gave me a hundred-dollar bill for my birthday,” I confide. “He told me to spend it, and not roll it, whatever that means. Will it be enough to buy me a plane ticket?”
“A super cheap one maybe.”
He says it with a gleam in his eye, which means that he and Sam’s dad are in on a joke I’ll never understand.
“We could always borrowPapá’sjet when he’s not looking.” Drawing my knees up to my chest, I rest my chin on them, and let out a contented sigh.“I could drop you off in London on the way home and you could go to that art college and draw all day, every day, for eternity. What’s it called again?”
“Goldsmiths.”
“What do you think?”
“Sounds good.”
“You’re not going to do it though, are you?”
He laughs in a way that’s more regretful than funny. “Maybe one day,Bonita.”
“You’re talented enough. I know you are.” I stop and yawn like Thalia did, feeling all sun-sleepy. The sound of the lapping water is making my eyelids flutter like a butterfly’s wings.
“Never lose it, Ella,” I hear him say as he flips the page over and starts outlining a Tanager bird that’s roosting on a nearby chair.
“Lose what?”
“Your shine.”
“What doesthatmean?”
“You see the world as a prize, not a burden. It’s a gift.”
“Huh?”
