Chapter 31 “You’re every bit as clumsy with your hands as your sister said.” “……” “Want help?” “No. Escalante.” When Cárcel flicked with his fingertip, rosary beads of uneven size skittered around the tray. Not gifted yet a perfectionist in his way, they were already discards. Some were round and smooth but far too small; some were the right size...
🔒