“When Nacho told me you were alive,” Vicente says now, “I wept.” I’ll bet you did, Adán thinks. Vicente asks, “Is Elvis here, too?” The joke doesn’t sit well with Alberto Tapia. “You want to meet Elvis, Vicente? Because maybe we can work that out.” Vicente reaches for the gun at his hip. So does Alberto. Nacho steps in. “Don’t make a liar of me, gentlemen.” Vicente eases his hand away. He believes he’s too handsome to die, Adán thinks, that it would be too great a loss to a world in need of beauty. Alberto waits for Vicente to back down first, and then, grinning, takes his hand away from his
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