The sun was still rising timidly when I came down the stairs and found Miguel already in a light dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and Giulia finishing her cereal with her feet swinging in the air. He looked at me with that calm smile and handed me a cup of coffee as if it were an old habit between us.
We were getting used to this — to the shared routine, to the small gestures.
"Are you ready to face the world, señorita?" he teased, adjusting Giulia's backpack.
"I don't think I've ever been," I replied with a half-laugh, grabbing my bag.
The drive to school was light. Giulia chattered in the backseat about her science presentation, and Miguel laughed at the wild explanations she gave about planets and paper rockets. Everything should have been perfect.
But it wasn't.
As s
