Chapter 20 Esmeralda''S Pov

• “What's your favorite food?”
• I realize how stupid the question sounds after it comes out of my mouth. I gape as he stares at me incredulously. It’s late, his plate empty except for a few splattered drops of soup and grains of rice.
• I notice for the first time the silver streaks of hair lost in his red sea of hair, like misplaced paintings, and I wonder idly whether the out-of-place hair bothered him as much as it did me. The chair I chose is far away from the center where he sits. There’s an empty coffee cup and an old newspaper in one corner.