The smell of freshly brewed coffee still lingered in the kitchen when Rosa cupped my face between her hands. Her palms were warm, calloused by time and work, and there was something deeply ceremonial about the way she held me — as if she were trying to memorize my features before letting us walk into whatever waited beyond the ranch gates.
“Go with God, niña,” she murmured softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “And remember… those who walk in truth never walk alone.”
My throat tightened instantly.
I didn’t trust my voice enough to answer.
The truth was, my stomach had been twisted into knots since the night before. No amount of rest had been able to quiet the anxiety humming under my skin, and now it sat heavy in my chest, pulsing with every heartbeat.
Marco pulled Rosa into a long
