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“He’s funny,” I said. “Which seems completely inappropriate considering where he is. And he doesn’t mistake quiet for stupid. Somehow, he sees me better than people who’ve known me my entire life.”

I looked toward the door.

“And he promised to take me with him.”

Rafael’s expression sobered.

“I know a promise is not an escape until I’m on free ground.”

“Good.”

“But I can’t let Marcela destroy him while we wait for the perfect opportunity.”

“We are not waiting for perfect.”

He released me and picked up one of the bottles, studying the label before setting it farther back on the shelf.

“I’ve been working on another possibility.”

“What?”

“An agricultural shipment leaving the compound soon.”

I straightened.

“What kind?”

“Coffee and other produce. I’ve been watching who loads it, which men inspect outgoing vehicles, and where they take it.”

“Could we hide in it?”

“Possibly.”

“Then why haven’t you told me?”

“Because possibly is not enough when getting caught means both of you die.”

He held up a hand before I could argue.

“I don’t yet know whether I can trust the driver or who will be at the gate when it leaves. And getting a man of his size from the dungeon to the truck remains the hardest part.”

His radio crackled at his belt.

A man’s voice asked something about a delivery.

Rafael lifted the radio.

“Keep the southern road clear until I say otherwise. No deliveries through the west side.”

A quick acknowledgment came back.

He clipped the radio to his belt again.

I stared at it.

“You can move guards?”

“Some of them. Some of the time.”