‘Perhaps.’ Alba considered. ‘They might be more receptive if I speak Spanish. And there’e always the language of Flamenco, though I’m still a stuttering toddler next to them.’ 

‘Please, at least try it.’ T. asked solicitously, as it would also be a gift to her soul. 

‘Sure, no problem.’ She sighed, closed her eyes, basked in the sound of the gypsies’ enchanting tongue. ‘God, I feel like I’m back to Seville.’ The girl opened her lids, beamed widely at the presented task. ‘Ok, here goes nothing.’ 

Ms. Hernandez’s spine straightened, head held high, steps graceful yet imposing. A powerful stance that also exuded amity and the inability to harm even a fly. 

The gitanos saw her and ceased talking. The kids froze in position, eyes darting curiously over Alba’s demeanor. Most of the women gave her frothy glares, but the young lady who had gone through miscarriage seemed to be taken with the newcomer. 

When at last the teen was within conversational distance, she bowed respectfully and said in hesitant, melodious Spanish: 

‘Hello. I’m Alba from Sevilla.’ She feigned shyness, looked down at her feet before smiling and glancing at them again. ‘It’s a huge pleasure to meet you.’

Their expressions remained clouded, unreliable, blunt. The girl had expected such a reaction, was fairly used to this kind of shunning. Gitanos didn’t trust outsiders and rarely connected to someone who wasn’t part of their tribu. 

She waited for a few seconds, sapphire eyes calmly glittering as the sun shone into her face. Her silky auburn hair floated in the wind, resembled flames snapping and dancing as a cool breeze played with them. 

She was quite a sight: beautifully posed, friendly beaming, powerfully imposing. 

The youngest of women, the one Tina was almost sure had aborted, sprang to her feet amd, despite the reproachful glances other gypsies gave her, approached the girl and held out a hand. 

‘Hello, Alba of Sevilla. I’m Maria, from Granada. It’s a pleasure to meet you too.’ She grinned openly, especially when the two shook hands. 

The one who’d spoken was tall, had almost the same height as Marina. Her skin was very dark, more then everybody else’s, and her huge eyes shone with obsidian gems. Her features were rough yet attractively so, a sculpture in polished wood. Her hair was black and softly curled at the end.