Chapter 26 Crossing Doubts

• After a successful trial, Guillermo insisted that “we celebrate”, and while Marcel, his father, and about 20 other people that I don’t know, sit on the long, roundabout, cushioned bench around the fire pit, drinking, smoking, talking, and laughing, I lay on one of the many white chaise lounge chairs surrounding the pool, silently.
• The cool night breeze flicks the stray hair strands from my loose low bun, the chilly air penetrating my sweater as I cross my legs in front of me. I draw my cheek between my teeth, chewing thoughtfully with my eyebrows furrowed ever-so-slightly and my gaze fixed on the whipped cream of the Piña Colada in my hands as my mind wanders to the thing I wish I could stop thinking about: the bomb.
• Damn it.