Chapter 7

I know how I felt: furious. Only furious.

I risked everything for a box full of sugar. I had been beaten to a pulp for a packet of sugar. Mireya realized how angry I was, but God knew I was making a tremendous effort not to explode and get the hell out of there.

“Your payment is not for delivering the package,” she told me, anticipating my retreat. “It’s for obeying me. For following my orders without question and, obviously, for doing whatever it takes to accomplish your mission.” She stood silently, looking at me as I clenched my fists, still furious.

“You got the job, Oscar,” she laughed. “Oh, and by the way, the man you hit in that alley? He’s fine. He works for me, and he’ll have a headache for a few days. Way to go, Oscarcito.”

She got up, fixed her skirt, and looked at me, satisfied. “Go back home. We’ll talk tomorrow, and you’ll start working for me.”

I returned home exactly by the same route I had taken to get there in the first place. I stoppe