Page 42 of Before Dawn

“How are you? How was the flight? Are you hungry? You look flushed... Are you tired, Princess?”

I flopped onto the living room sofa, grinning. “Calm down, Mom,” I said. “I’m fine. I’m hungry, and the flight was turbulent, but I made it.”

“Great,” Dad replied. “We’ve got much to discuss, but we’ll talk after you’ve settled. Glad to have you home, Princess.”

The one thing I always loved about being with my family was their love. No matter where we were or what we did, it never wavered. I was beyond grateful to have them.

“Angel,” my mom called out to Aurora.

“Yes, Mom?” Aurora replied, heading toward the kitchen.

And that was the last thing I heard before sleep pulled me under.

Chapter Ten

Mikkel

“The best love is the one that makes you a better person, without changing you into someone other than yourself.”

~Unknown

Hours of delays and turbulence had me gripping the armrest in frustration. By the time we landed, I swore I’d never fly Delta again. The car our parents sent was waiting, but even as we drove through the city, my mind wasn’t on the familiar streets or the frustration of the flight. It was on Abigail.

I caught sight of her while waiting for coffee, and before I knew it, I was walking toward her, drawn by something I couldn’t name. A small, deliberate brush of shoulders—and then she turned, eyes locking onto mine, and suddenly, the world wasn’t so loud anymore.

Her beauty wasn’t just skin deep. It was in the calm confidence she carried, the quiet command in the way she moved. Even the smallestdetails—like the soft yellow floral accents on her nails—stayed with me. Who was she? What made her tick?

The questions spun in my mind like a song on repeat. She was unlike anyone I’d met, and I couldn’t shake the need to find out why. So, I got her Instagram. Asking for her number felt too bold, too soon, but this? This felt like the perfect way to get to know her without overwhelming her.

Even as the car slowed in front of my parents’ house, her name still echoed in my mind.

Tahoe Park stretched out before us, the house nestled among towering pines and bathed in the afternoon sun. It stood tall and impressive, with elegant details and large bay windows that reflected the light just right.

“Mamá,” I called out.

I heard her footsteps approach, familiar and comforting. Valeria Suarez, my mother, appeared, radiating warmth like the Mediterranean sun. Her caramel-toned skin glowed, and her deep brown eyes met mine, offering reassurance.

“¡Hola, mis amores!”16

I leaned in for a hug. “You look radiant as always,Mamá.17”

She smiled and kissed my cheeks. “Mi hijo18, you’re so handsome,” she said, her voice warm, before walking over to my sister. “My beautiful Emilia.”

“Mamá,” Emilia greeted her, her tone flat.

“I wished you brought my grandson,” Mom added, her eyes lingering on Emilia with a hint of disappointment.

Emilia sighed, the sound heavy with annoyance.Here we go.“Hopefully, I’m good enough company,” she said lightly, though the tightness in her voice gave her away.

Mom’s face shifted to one of shock. “Em—”

“Don’t worry,Mamá. I’ll take him next time,” Emilia said, her voice tight, though she tried to stay calm.

I glanced between them, sensing the tension thickening like an approaching storm. Emilia’s clipped tone and Mom’s lingering disappointment were a familiar dance, one I wasn’t about to sit through this weekend.

Wanting to steer the conversation elsewhere, I shifted my attention. “Where’s Papá?19” I asked, scanning the house.

Mom adjusted her apron. “He’s at the restaurant. He’ll be home later.”

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