Chapter 20: The River

I ran down the orchard slope so fast I lost a shoe.

The Quintero captains were running too, but I was nearer, and the grass was slick with ash.

The dock stuck out into the Hudson.

Ramiro stood at the end of it with the gun in one fist and Tadeo's collar in the other.

Tadeo's feet were over the edge.

"Stop there, wife," Ramiro called. "One more step."

I stopped.

My chest was heaving and my bare foot bled onto the planks.

"Let him go," I said.

"Why would I?" He laughed, high and wild. "He took my chair. He took my family's house. He took even you."

"I was never yours."

"You were supposed to be dead by now. Everything would have been tidy."

"Cousin," said Tadeo.

His voice was a thread, but it carried.

"You loved me once. You taught me to swim in this river."

"I did," Ramiro said, and for a second his face cracked. "That's why I'm going to be quick."

He put the gun to the back of Tadeo's head.

I moved.

I don't remember choosing it.

I threw myself at Ramiro's knees with my whole weight, and the gun went off beside my ear.

The three of us went over the edge together.

The river was so cold it stopped my heart.

I came up spitting and blind.

Ramiro had Tadeo by the neck, and his good arm was clamped round him.

Tadeo's face was under the water.

His hands were weak, and his bad arm trailed uselessly, and his head went down.

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