As a highly respected, single elderly lady, María José always kept some treats at home for potential visitors or hosts. She never had to worry about her homemade sweets going bad. She could always count on Carlos and the German family living next door to help her finish the leftovers.
Those damn frogs. Cold, slimy little creatures. Ludmilla hated every single one of them. Especially the ones she occasionally had to swallow. And life, from time to time, forced her to do just that.
It was already more than five minutes past eleven-thirty when Heidi’s hunched figure, wrapped in a hoodie, finally appeared at the corner of the large pool. Ted silently raised his tablet to signal that he was filming and didn’t intend to disturb the girl smoking and listening to music.
Bernard impatiently drummed his fingers on the black marble kitchen counter. From time to time, he tapped the screen of his phone to check the time.
"When are we leaving?" Noud asked quietly.
"Exactly at seven-thirty."
Heidi took a sip of the liqueur. No one ever offered her alcohol at home—after all, she was only fifteen. She didn’t dare finish the contents of the glass. Leaning back, she met Carlos’s impatient gaze.
"Tell me in as much detail as you can what you saw," the old man whispered.
“Let’s go over this,” Noud began, barely audible but irritated. “Heidi saw you.” He raised his thumb from his clenched fist.
Bernard nodded grimly.
Heidi turned the sun loungers on the poolside near the fence inward this evening. Pablo would only rearrange them in their usual way in the morning. This way, at night, while smoking, Ted wouldn’t be able to watch her every move.
"Rob?"
"Damn it, Ted!" The American jumped at the sound. "What is it this time?" he asked irritably.
He bent down to pick up the book he had dropped in his fright when his neighbor, as was his bad habit, leaned on the stone fence between them.
At the dull thud, Noud sat up in bed with a start. His heart pounding, he whipped his head back and forth, trying to figure out what had made the strange, out-of-place sound. The room was illuminated by the full moon. Beneath the window, he spotted a large sports bag.
In the early morning twilight, María José could feel the gaze of her neighbor, Ludmilla. She didn’t look up at the window, but she knew exactly that the elderly German woman was watching her from there. She involuntarily shrugged her shoulders.