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No one replied.
“We’ll open the tomb after lunch,” Abdullah said. “All of you be ready by then.” He stood, his grief tugging the corners of his mouth downward. “It’s a holiday, isn’t it? Feliz Navidad.”
He walked away and my heart shattered.
I’d ruined everything. I ought to have known, I should have suspected. Abdullah’s quiet grief cut me deeply. I would have preferred that he yelled at me like my uncle had done. His disappointment hurt worse, but wasn’t he as much to blame? His lying and determined secrecy had worked againstallof us. I wished to heaven I had—
Whit nudged my knee with his. “Stop it.”
I startled. “What?”
He leaned forward, and spoke quietly so that Isadora couldn’t hear. “I know what you’re doing. You can’t change what happened, or what you did. Try not to destroy yourself over it. Your mother betrayed you. If there’s anyone you can’t forgive, let it be her.”
Tears pricked my eyes. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
“Try,” he said gently. He stood up and held out his hand. “Come on, Olivera. I have something I want to show you.”
“Did you still want to learn how to shoot?” Isadora cut in. I’d almost forgotten she was there. “I can teach you now, if you’d like. It’s my gift to you.”
Whit’s brow creased. “I can teach you how to shoot.”
I jumped to my feet. Suddenly the idea of blowing something to smithereens sounded wonderful. “Let’s go.”
“Olivera—” Whit began. Isadora raised her brows at his familiar use of my name.
“If you want to learn, I can teach you right now,” she said.
“I’m in good hands,” I said to Whit. “You’ve seen Isadora fire her pistol, haven’t you?”
“Come find me when you’re done, then. Trajan’s Kiosk. And for God’s sake, don’t hurt yourself.”
Isadora pulled me away and led me far from the others, close to the water, an expanse of space surrounded by trees and large rocks. I followed her down to the bank, my shoes filled with hot sand. Something slithered across my vision and I let out a shriek.
She turned around, her gaze landing over my shoulder. “A scorpion. Good thing it didn’t sting you.”
I shuddered as the insect meandered up the hill. It stopped and perched itself on a smooth rock. I turned away and met Isadora down by the water.
“I think it best we aim out to the river, for now. Then, I’ll set up proper targets once you’ve gotten used to the feel of the gun going off.”
“Gracias,” I murmured, my head still full of Tío Ricardo’s disappointment. His furious expression was carved in my mind. I’d never forget it, not as long as I lived.
“Are you all right?” Isadora asked. “You look pale.”
“My uncle and I had an argument,” I said, because if I could escape telling another lie, I would. I was sick of them. “I was at fault. Well,mostlyat fault.”
“Did you apologize?”
I let out a bleak laugh. “It didn’t do much good.”
Isadora pulled at her lip. “Everyone makes mistakes.”
“While true, it doesn’t exactly make me feel better.” I hesitated. “I trusted the wrong person.”
“You are trusting,” she agreed. “Far too much.”
I blinked, surprised. Anger sparked, lacing my blood. “You don’t know me at all.”
Isadora pulled out her gun, sleek and shiny in the sunlight. She raisedit and aimed at my heart. Something flickered in her eyes. I couldn’t define the emotion. The world dimmed, narrowed to the barrel of her weapon. “I know you’re the type of person who would leave the safety of the camp with a near stranger, even knowing they carried a weapon.”
