Chapter 25
Pasha watched Marah sitting in the shade of a blazing orange Firebush. The temperature was mild for Mexico City on this day in February 1939.
Did she sense he was watching as she turned, flashing a sly grin? He wondered.
I remember well that first time she stepped from the truck, her dusky beauty showing through the mask of dust. Marah walked with confidence, as if she believed in her destiny. I saw a remarkable woman under that grime.
Would it ever make up for the horrible day Seth was murdered?
He still carried guilt for what happened to Lilie. Pasha would always ask himself if he was responsible for her capture by the Gestapo. Was it something I did, a mistake? Did I give her away in a careless moment? Accountable or not, Pasha would live forever in the clutches of her m
