"Are you out of your mind, Don Martin?"
As soon as I stepped into the conference room, Fidel Contreras's deafening shout rang out. For a moment, I was completely taken aback, floundering nervously as I tried to insert my arm into the coat I had hastily grabbed from upstairs. It had been decades since anyone had shouted at me so rudely.
I glanced at Señor Paras, the town mayor. I would find no sympathy from him. Florentino simply looked away, staring out the window at the backyard. It seemed Colonel Abad's warning had been accurate—the two men, usually at odds, had come together in agreement against me.
"What is your problem, Don Contreras? Have you forgotten your manners, that you would shout at me before we've even started talking?" I had collected myself and decided to be offended. A quick scan of Martin's memories confirmed that Fidel had never been this impolite before.
