My shirt was off, and she was working on my belt. She had me lift my hips, or she lifted them for me, I still don’t know. She moved to unlace my san...als. And there I was, lying face up in the sunlight. Naked. And completely hers, as long as she sang. And sing she did, a different song, as if she had gotten what she wanted, and was calling something or someone else to her now. It was a gentle chant, rhythmic, and I started to recognize it. I’d heard it many nights, when I crept out to listen to. “You didn’t say inside or not.”“True,” Wesley said. “Are you wearing a bra?”“Yes,” Amaya said. She bit her lip. Was this a trick? Was she going to lose after running out here just because she didn’t put the bra she was wearing in the backpack? Amaya had a bad suspicion that she was the butt of a joke.“Good,” Wesley said. “Remove your bra and put it in the backpack. When you are done, tell me and I will tell you the next step in your race.”“Right here?” Amaya said. A crowd of boys walked past. More

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