Sol 026
He pasado la tarde con la mano en el pulso de Priya — rutina, nada — y he notado que contaba los segundos antes de que el número apareciera en pantalla. Veinte años haciendo eso no se van a ningún sitio. Luego en la sala polivalente, durante el ocio, Amara ha estado cerca un rato. No le he preguntado nada. He mirado sus manos, que es lo que hago cuando no me fío de las palabras, las mías y las ajenas. Parecían sueltas. La sospecha no desaparece por lo que uno ve, pero sí se calla un momento. Chandler sigue a medias en el lector.
I spent the afternoon with two fingers on Priya's wrist — routine, nothing — and noticed I was counting the seconds before the number came up on the screen. Twenty years of that doesn't go anywhere. Later in the common room, during free time, Amara was nearby for a while. I didn't ask her anything. I watched her hands instead, which is what I do when I can't trust words — mine or anyone else's. They looked loose. Suspicion doesn't disappear from what you see, but it does go quiet for a moment. Chandler is still half-finished on the reader.