Cómo entrenar un Pitbull

Previously

…The air grew cooler, carrying with it the scent of woodsmoke and the promise of evening. Mateo, his heart lighter than it had been in weeks, whistled softly. Roca, panting happily, nudged the ball towards Carlos one last time before trotting obediently to Mateo’s side. Carlos, his face still flushed with the thrill of the game, watched them go, a thoughtful expression on his young face. The whispers hadn’t entirely ceased, Mateo knew, but tonight, they might carry a different tone. Tonight, a small bridge had been built, not with words, but with a simple, well-loved ball, and the boundless, unpretentious joy of a dog named Roca.