Page 43 of Before Dawn

Emilia’s shoulders sank slightly, a sign of her frustration, but she didn’t push further. Hoping to keep things from escalating, I reached for our bags. “I’ll take these upstairs.”

She nodded, though her gaze lingered on Emilia, who was already pulling out her phone to call Elijah.

Just as I turned toward the staircase, Mom’s voice followed me. “Mikkel! Be down by eight for dinner. I’m makingLa Bandera.Su favorito!20”

It felt like all my prayers were being answered today.

I could already taste the fragrant rice, red beans, and perfectly seasoned chicken, each bite carrying a hint of nostalgia.

“Te quiero mucho, Mamá,”21 I called over my shoulder.

“¡Yo también te quiero, hijo!22”

Upstairs, I dropped the bags in my old room, took a quick shower, and got settled in. When I checked my phone, the group chat had exploded—Arnoldo, Dillon, and Ronan arguing over something completely pointless as usual.

Then, a message from Alexcaught my eye.

Alex:you landed?

Me:Yep. Just got to my parents’ house.

Alex:great. how was the flight?

Me:A bunch of fucking delays.

Alex:why don’t you just buy a jet?

Me:It’s not on my high list of priorities.

Alex:of course, it isn’t.

Me:I saw her at the airport.

Alex:this has to be fucking fate. tell me you got her name.

Me:I got her name and her Instagram.

Alex:keep me updated.

Me:Will do.

Alex:it’s your year of love, brother.

He was right. It was definitely my year of love.

Two hours later, the smell of dinner woke me, and as I headed downstairs, everyone was already seated at the table.

“Buenas noches a todos,23” I greeted, pulling out my chair. “Hola, Papá.24”

Manuel Suarez, my father, looked up at me, sharp as ever in a white T-shirt and brown cargo pants. He was an older version of me—same strongfeatures, same presence that commanded attention. It was almost eerie how much I resembled him, like my parents had copy-pasted his face onto mine the moment I was born.

“Me alegro de verte, hijo,25” he said, rising slightly to clasp my shoulder before pulling me into a brief hug.

I returned it, feeling the familiar weight of his strength. “How are you?”

“I’m good, Papá,” I replied, meeting his gaze with a smile. “Busy as always, but things are going well. I’m headed to Chicago after the party.”

He nodded, approval flashing in his eyes. “Let’s eat.”

---