"Yes."
"They might have been shot," she murmured, thinking of those who had died at Refugio.
They were facing one another in the mirror.
"They followed the back roads. They knew how to manage."
"Good for Vicente," she said.
"He wants to stay at Petaca," Raul said.
"You mean he won't go with me to Guadalajara? I need him."
"I think we can change his mind."
She called Vicente from the door and he came leaping upstairs, his hair badly combed, his tropic clothes in a mess. He kissed his mother dutifully, then turned to his father and said:
"Tell me about the shooting, the fight here." His energy flashed into his gestures. "It must have been exciting. And to think that you drove the soldiers away!" He beamed proudly.