"Ruby-quartz," she says without hesitation. And then she considers her sunglasses. She's pretty sure he's humoring her, but she doesn't really care. The fact that he cares enough to lie and compliment her is a nice feeling. It reminds her of when Gabriela tried to comb out her hair and said it was still beautiful even though it was full of tangles and blood and mud.

"Gracias," she murmurs. "What are your books?"