"Let me see your brother myself. Where is he?"
"... 'dead," said Esteban.
"Oh, I didn't know. I didn't know. I'm sorry." "Yes," said Esteban. "I got to go."
"Hmm.—Which are you? What's your name?"
"Esteban."
"When did Manuel die?"
"Oh, just a ... just a few weeks. He hit his knee against something and ... just a few weeks ago."
They both kept their eyes on the floor.
"How old are you, Esteban?"
"Twenty-two."