He approached and rested his elbows on the railing.
—Why never unmask yourself before? —asked.
Zafir was slow to respond.
—Because a man whom everyone believes is broken is no longer a visible threat. Nobody fears a ghost. And ghosts hear things.
Amira understood.
Of course he understood it.
That kind of survival was written in a language she also spoke.
—And now?
He turned his head towards her.
—Now I married you.
The sentence was dry.
But something in her tone made her stay still.
—That changes the rules —he continued—. If they come for you, I can't hide anymore.
Amira held her gaze.
There were many things he could say.
Many.
That he didn't need protection.
That she had been surviving alone all her life.
That he didn't trust anyone.
That a signed marriage did not mean intimacy.
That I still didn't know if I could believe him at all.
But none of those were the truth that came out of his mouth.
—Good —he said, barely.
Because what she did know... was that for the first time in years she did not feel alone in war.
And that scared her more than the danger.
IV
The return to Mexico City was an ambush.
Not a figurative one.
A real.
The convoy left the private airport shortly after dark. Two black trucks in front, his in the center, one behind. Everything seemed under control.
Until a trailer without license plates crossed Periférico.
Too fast.
Too clean.
Too accurate.
—Down! —Zafir roared.
Amira barely managed to duck when the first impact blew out the side glass in a shower of fragments.
There were no shots visible from the street.
They were precision projectiles with an industrial silencer, intended to puncture tires, immobilize, sow chaos.
Professionals.
Not assailants.
Not improvised.
Hired assassins.
The truck spun violently.
The driver cursed.
One of the bodyguards shouted something on the radio.
Zafir was already on top of Amira, covering her head with one arm while with his other hand he tore off a hidden side panel.
He pulled out a compact weapon.
Not for glamour.
Out of habit.
—Since when have you been wearing that? —Amira snapped, her breathing labored.
—Since my family tries to kill me.
Another blow.
Another broken glass.
The truck braked hard.
—They closed us!
