Javier adjusted his expensive watch. Andrés looked around with quiet discomfort. Luis, the youngest, tried to act calm, but his eyes betrayed him.
Behind them, their wives whispered softly, their children clinging to their hands, confused by the unfamiliar place.
At the entrance to San Miguel de la Sierra stood Don Ramiro—the village chief.
He didn’t smile.
He didn’t move.
He simply watched them.
“Don Ramiro!” Javier called, forcing a polite tone. “It’s been a long time.”
Silence.