Kaya's hunkered down in her nest of sacks again, listening, sober and attentive. She's heard the song before; very softly, too softly to be heard, she's humming along.

Before the first verse is quite through, Azimar has lifted himself from the half-reclining position, eyes widening; by the end of the second, he's sitting very straight, leaning forward, his lips parted just slightly.

When Gaeta finishes singing, he lets out a long, low breath.