I sighed despairingly as I looked out the window. It had, after all, rained that afternoon—a steady shower that lasted until the late hours of the day. When the clouds finally cleared, the sun reappeared, already beginning to set. Its tawny rays pierced through, making the wet leaves of the trees and the blades of grass glisten.
It had only been hours earlier that I had so hopefully told Don delos Santos I would try my luck this week. I wondered if he was growing tired of me.
First, he had discouraged me from joining the workers in the field earlier, and ignoring him, I had made a fool of myself. It was becoming increasingly likely that there would be a repeat. I'd be waiting in Kasily like a fool, hoping the fields would dry within a day—partly urged by the desire to provide company to a grieving girl.
Maybe my presence did offer some comfort. But was I really that necessary? There was even a chance I was prolonging her grief just by being here.
