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Dad bought a bottle of water, too, and swallowed his first dose as we walked down the street, past the soccer pitch and under the gray watchful eye of a shrouded mountain.
    The restaurants in the main plaza were full of tourists trying to be the first to visit Machu Picchu. The smell of eggs and bread and coffee carried to me. My stomach had a ton to say about that. Juan steered us toward a particular place, one with tables out on the walk. Gestured for us to sit at an already occupied table. As in occupied by an old man with thick, black hair in long-sleeved red flannel over a black t-shirt, jeans, and sandals.
    Dad hugged the guy the way he’d hugged Juan at the airport, only tighter.
    “It’s okay.” The old man patted my father’s back.
    Dad pulled back a bit. Shook his head. “No, it’s not.”
    “It will be.”
    With that, my father calmed. He sat, which I took as my cue. “Leah,” he said, “this is Daveed.”
    It took me a minute to figure he meant David, only pronounced differently. I needed coffee. David insisted on a cup of coca tea for everyone instead. And a quick breakfast.
    He looked at me. No, he looked through me. Into me. It made me squirm in my seat. He seemed satisfied with whatever he saw.
    Dad had brought us to this place in search of his friend the shaman. This guy with the magic eyes had to be him.
    “Does she know?” the shaman asked my father.
    Dad hesitated. I could tell he wanted to tell me the thing he’d been hiding, but didn’t really have a handle on how.
    I didn’t care about how. I cared about now. It’d been him and me against the world for so long. Before I knew it, it would just be me against the world. I didn’t want to think about that. I had no choice. Neither did he.
    Choice being the operative word. What would happen to me after he died? He had no friends at home left to leave me with. No one had stuck around. Okay, fine. Or not fine. Whatever.
    “We’re almost broke,” Dad said.
    I touched his arm. “I figured. You spent what was left of our money to get here. The tickets cost a fortune.”
    “Not as much as you think,” he said.
    I started to say there was no discount site that could make much of a difference. Stopped myself. “You bought one way tickets.”
    He didn’t say yes. He didn’t deny it.
    “Even mine?”
    He held my gaze, steady. “I wanted to leave you with a little money for after I’m gone. It’s better I’m here than at home. My memories are here.”
    “But not mine.”
    “Leah.” Just my name. Nothing else.
    I thought about how I’d seen all the memories in the house before he brought up the crazy idea of coming here. Had I known I’d never see the house again? Had I been storing up all those scenes in my mind and my heart so I could replay them later? Hell, no. I’d been acting like any girl whose dad could kick it any minute. I could imagine anything I wanted. Anytime. Anywhere.
    He was my memory.
    “You were going to leave me here?” I asked.
    “With David.”
    My voice rose with each word. “With guns and danger?”
    Dad lifted a hand. Pressed it down. “Lower your voice.”
    Not fair. I laid my head in my hands. Only for a second. I looked at Juan. “Last night you said there’s a cure for my dad.”
    “For people like your dad. It’s too late for him.”
    “What kind of shitty cure is it if it’s too late?”
    “The kind that researchers are investigating. They’re testing plants in the jungle. Making progress. If the miners with machines come in, the plants could be lost. We could all be lost.”
    Saving them—us—that was worth braving guns and danger. It wouldn’t be enough. Not for my father. Could it be enough for Amber’s mom? For the rest of the world? Maybe.
    Dad read my thoughts on my face. Not with shaman eyes, with dad eyes. “If you want, David has offered to teach you what he knows about the plants. About how to make medicine.”
    As bribes went, that counted for the worst and the best rolled