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. he’s texted. He’s on the way…”’It wasn’t much of a gamble. He was her friend, someone we liked and respected, and was good company. But ...e weren’t sure anything would happen. Or even if we’d want it to. After an enjoyable evening, and perhaps sensing a moment alone was needed, our friend went to the toilet. We looked at each other. We both knew what the other was thinking. She grinned the grin that says “Can we?”. By the time he came back downstairs, she was kneeling over me on the couch,. Late that night, Isabella lay on her bed, exhausted from the work of the kitchens and the endless formal socializing with relatives. She remembered Gustavo’s words and his touch and the memories of fifteen years ago came flooding back. Memories of a series of events, she now knew, that held the key to all that had befallen her family ever since and of which she was supposedly blessedly ignorant. It had started with normal adolescent curiosity. Isabella had been a studious young girl with a. More

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