Chapter 43

Papa was dead? Emotional pain tore through me as I remembered everything, and I was overwhelmed by the need for action. In blind vengeance, I flexed my fingers and lashed out, hearing a satisfying cry of pain from whoever had grabbed me. “My balls! He cut my balls! He has a knife!” The man howled in fear and anguish. Blood spilled onto the deck, and he collapsed onto it, clutching the now empty space between his thighs.

“Madre do Deus, he has cut off Julio’s balls!”

If I could only get back into the water I’d be able to escape these men, but before I could get over the side of the boat they grabbed me.

“Where did he get a knife? He is naked. How did you let him get his hands on a weapon?” the one called “jefe” demanded. His accent was a mixture of Paraguayan Guarani and Brazilian Portuguese.

“Ai! Look at his hands!”