Omar experienced a moment of revelation. Not a religious revelation, but a pure thought that came from outside himself. A puzzle piece falling into place.
Omar returns home but falls into a profound depression, leading his mother to make a shocking confession about her past.
“The man in the photo," Omar said, “Is your grandfather and mine.” Melo made a guttural sound, while Ivana's face darkened with anger.
“I have waited for this moment,” Nemesio said. "Do you know what happened to me? How miserable my life became? I survived only to destroy you."
Omar dashed between the traffic lanes, trying to make out the Mercedes driver’s face. But the man reversed, swung a u-turn and sped off.
Omar met Celio Natá's flat gaze. The man was the Black Knife: the Ngäbe-Buglé’s secret weapon. A one-man strike force.
What did he need a grandfather for, anyway? He had a wonderful life. In fact, his life was so good it sometimes frightened him.
The driver whistled. “Waow. You some big politico? So watchu gonna do about the foreigners snatchin’ our jobs? The Chinos?”
A security guard - a long-faced, muscular man - stared at him disconcertingly. Omar frowned. Why would the security staff be suspicious of him?
He felt a need for Allah, to adhere to the discipline and reassurance of worship. So he prayed Isha’ on the grass that bordered Avenida Balboa,...