10
Sofia heard voices as her consciousness returned, men speaking in rapid Spanish arguing over a football game. She tried to open her eyes, but a dark scarf prevented her from seeing too much. It smelled of apple tobacco smoke from the hookah pipe bars and for a moment she was transported back to the warm Granada evening, laughing at something Alejandro had said without a care in the world.
Then she remembered the lights going out in the Court of the Lions, the men who had taken her and their rough handling before oblivion.
Though blindfolded, Sofia could sense that she was lying sideways on a reclinable chair, a safety belt snapped tightly shut and pulled across her hips. Her hands were cuffed behind her back, her throat was dry and a bitter aftertaste lingered. Her head throbbed and
