‘Remember the deal we made. The day I die, all that was once mine will be yours. . . .’ ‘. . . Except your dreams.’ They smiled at one another for the last time. Julián handed him his passport. Miquel put it next to the copy of The Shadow of the Wind that he had been carrying in his coat pocket since the day he’d received it. ‘See you soon,’ Julián whispered. ‘There’s no hurry. I’ll be waiting.’
