RYAN••••••••"¡Mamá!" He jumps in my arms, kicking at the sight of the roof.I look down at the dark shingled roof tucked into the thicket, the wood dulled from years of sun and ocean wind. "Yes." I nod. "Mama." Then, looking back at his excited little face, a smile warms mine. "We might need to fix that accent, though"—not that I'm a bigot—"can't have a Spanish don, sì?""¡Sí!"I frown."Sì."The jaw-separating grin returns. "Bravo, piccolo mio."He smiles up at me, his amber eyes made several shades lighter by the amount of light entering them—or by the one radiating through.He looks down again and almost jumps out of my arms."Whoa! Easy, buddy.""¡Mamá!" he goes again, pointing.I tilt my head, and sure enough, Purity's standing on the roof, right next to the 'H,' and she's dressed to kill... me."Bienvenidos!" she shouts over the mechanical whirr of the chopper's blades. "Es un placer tenerte aquí."Saint wriggles out of my hands and charges at his mom, wading through the roto
Última actualización : 2026-02-13 Leer más