The sleep was bad. Even worse than usual. Dreams of drowning in warm turquoise water; dreams of abandoned cats walking across her body as she slept; dreams of strangulation by serpent. Gemma woke up screaming.
She drank water. Took a cold shower.
Slept and woke up screaming again.
At five a.m., she stumbled to the bathroom, splashed water on her face, and lined her eyes. Why not? She liked makeup. She had time. She layered concealer and powder, added smoky shadow, then mascara and a nearly black lipstick with a gloss over it.
She rubbed gel into her hair and got dressed. Black jeans, boots again, and a dark T-shirt. Too warm for the Colombian heat, but practical. She packed her suitcase, drank a bottle of water, and stepped out the door.
------------------------------------------------------
Sam was sitting in the hallway, her back against the wall, holding a steaming cup of coffee between her hands.
Waiting