I dreamed of Romans and warships. Mentally swiping at the cobweb of dreams and tangle of memories, I rub my eyes and wander into the hall bathroom. A wild halo sticks out from my braid, and blue circles ring my eyes. I twist the shower knobs and tug my hair free from the braid. Hot water needles my skin, and I close my eyes and lean against the wall. Steam fills my nostrils, and I breathe deeply.Last night’s scan of the big leather book yielded only more questions before I fell asleep—and I didn’t even get to the booklets. This time the Spanish morphed to English like the scroll, but it didn’t make the stories any more clear . . . or convincing.Back in the hallway, I glance at Papi’s door. It’s open and the light is off. He’s probably in his office. I grab a banana on my way through the kitchen and pad through the family room. Bimni lifts her head, pants once and drops back to sleep.Papi is bent over the leather book, a study in irony. Young, deadly fingers move back and forth across an ancient page.
