Do we all dare to hope for more? Of course. But it’s hard to hope when all you’ve known is corruption, when your reality is rigged elections and the possibility of more of the same. I admire his hope; I envy it. And even more, I fear it. Pablo shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t speak of such things.” A rueful smile settles on my lips. “You don’t strike me as the sort of man who worries about ‘should.’” “That’s true,” he concedes, his mouth quirking.
