Sadie owned the most remarkable pair of green eyes Iván had ever itched to paint. Watercolor, kaleidoscope, stained glass—he extolled the comparisons, but she wouldn’t budge.
“Just one photo. Come on, I wouldn’t have this job if I wasn’t a starving artist. Your face won’t even be in it.”
“For God’s sake.” Sadie yanked her hat off by the bill and lashed her ponytail free. “Fine. One. Just…don’t take too long.”
Iván fumbled his phone out of his vest’s neon pocket, knees knocking Sadie’s in the security booth. He trained the camera and tapped the screen to focus. Even through pixels, Iván could see the shape of the window, his phone, and his own shoulders crystallized in the lagoons of her remarkable, unhappy eyes. Watercolor, kaleidoscope—
The focus reset. Iván tapped the screen again to fix it. Watercolor, kaleidoscope, stained glass—
Black in the green. Reflected in the security window behind him.
“Took too long.”
Fingers seized Iván by the roots of his hair. Everything tilted and jarred. He could not see Sadie anymore; only a closed window, a dropped phone, and an empty chair.
The whole world was green.