It was no secret that Gabriela was of a fiery disposition, but seeing her orate—no, perform—a poem, solely in Spanish, was like watching a thunderstorm in all its ferocity. Most of the audience appeared enraptured, if a bit confused, as they could not understand what she was saying. Gideon snuck a glance at Whitfield, who was staring at Gabriela intently. An improvement from the sardonic look he showcased throughout the earlier readings.
