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A pause.

“Perhaps thirty.”

I looked over my shoulder at her back. “That was cruel.”

“You asked.”

I grinned.

“The channel empties into a ravine below the retaining wall,” she continued. “We follow it downhill and stay off the service road. The rows of coffee trees will hide us once we clear the wall. The banana grove is denser, but the ground is rougher.”

“I’ve heard dogs. Where do they patrol?”

“Along the eastern track at night.”

“Guard posts?”

“Two on the lower perimeter. One overlooks the service road. The other sits above the southern fields.”

“Vehicles?”

“Father’s men watch every road leaving the finca. Taking one would tell them where to look.”

Smart.

She hadn’t merely dreamed about escape. She’d studied the compound long enough to understand what would actually get her out instead of killed.

I finished, closed my pants, and adjusted my waistband.

“You can turn around.”

She did.

I was braced against the worktable, breathing harder than I wanted.

Her eyes narrowed.

“You need to sit down.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you aren’t.”

“Getting brave with me now?”

“You can barely stand.”

“I just walked across the room.”

“And now you’re holding onto a table.”

I stared at her.

She lifted her chin and didn’t give an inch.

Damn, I liked that.

“Sit,” she repeated.