Chapter 31

Something heavy seemed to have been thrown into my stomach. Or the words that Picasso used to expose a part of the truth were too indigestible. I couldn't say.

Because, even if my stubbornness did not allow me to trust or believe in others, that other almost always accurate instinct told me to see between the lines. He could be lying, but he also used some of the truth. The real answer is that I was in a lot of trouble.

"I think I deserve a thank you," said Picasso, in a loud tone of voice, because we were far away and the music bursting our eardrums. "For not letting you dig your own grave when interrogating Mariana's contact.

My brow furrowed.

"Why are you so sure of all these things?

"Wasn't this shitty mission proof enough of how much they want you to die soon? "He laughed. "Think that tragedy, Juju, you are sworn to death by the police, and have no choice but to live here forever?

"How do you know all this? "I insisted in a hoarse tone, unint