Page 44 of Before Dawn

As dishes ofLa Banderawere passed around, my mother’s voice carried over the table. “How’s the business,hijo? I see you making headlines.”

“It’s great,” I said, scooping rice onto my plate. “We’re currently working on expansion.”

He nodded. “I’m proud of you for following your dream.” Then, after a beat, his gaze sharpened. “You’re happy, right?”

I met his eyes, knowing the question ran deeper than just business.

A slow smile stretched across my lips.

“Exceedingly happy.”

“¿Alguna mujer?26” mom asked, her tone laced with curiosity.

I smirked, spearing a piece of chicken with my fork. “Whenever there is, you’ll be the first to know.”

“I hope so.” She gave me a pointed look before turning to Emilia. “How are things with you,mija?27 Are you enjoying it there?”

Emilia nodded, chewing her food carefully before answering. “Things are fine. When Elijah is older and more settled, I’m planning to move into a bigger apartment.”

Mom’s smile faltered, her fingers tightening around her glass. “Are you sure you can handle moving with a toddler? It’s not easy when you—”

“Mamá.” My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t regret it.

Emilia’s fork clattered against her plate. She exhaled, slow and measured, but I caught the flicker of irritation in her eyes before she turned to me. “I don’t need you to defend me, Mikkel.” Her voice was steady, but the tension in her shoulders told me otherwise. “I got through pregnancy on my own; I’m sure I can handle moving.”

Dad reached across the table, his weathered hand covering hers. “Mi querida,28” he said, his voice calm but firm. “You don’t have to handle anything on your own. We’ll all be there when you decide to move.”

Emilia swallowed hard. She nodded, her chair scraping softly against the floor as she stood. “I’m going to call Ashley and check on Elijah. Goodnight.”

“Em–” Mamá started, but dad touched her arm, silencing her with a small shake of his head.

“Let her go, Val. She’ll come back when she’s ready.”

I leaned back, gripping the edge of my chair, willing my voice to stay level. “Cut her some slack, Mamá.”

Her frown deepened, and for a moment, she looked like she wanted to argue. But instead, she simply pressed her lips together, lowering her gaze to her hands. I knew my mom meant well, but sometimes her words came off a lot more critical than she intended.

The tension stretched between us, thick and suffocating, until my dad shifted the conversation to something safer. “The summer menu is a hit, and we’re busy as usual,” he said, his voice lighter. “The habichuelas con dulce keeps selling out by lunchtime.”

Mamá exhaled, the tension in her shoulders loosening. “We’re thinking of adding another dessert to the menu. Something light and fresh, maybe with mango or passion fruit.”

“I already have the chef working on options,” dad added, nodding thoughtfully.

I let their conversation wash over me as they discussed the restaurant they had poured their hearts into for years—El Sabroso Delicia. Their words blended into the background as my mind drifted upstairs. Emilia’s voice, the tightness in it, the way she’d practically fled from the table—it weighed heavy in my chest.

Pushing my chair back, I stood. “I’m going to check on Emilia.”

Mom waved me off, her voice softer now. “Go on. She might talk to you.”

I took the stairs two at a time, stopping in front of Emilia’s door. The light beneath it was dim, flickering slightly.

For a moment, I hesitated, pressing my fingers against the wood.

I knocked lightly. “Emilia?”

Silence.

I waited, listening for movement, for a shift, for any sign that she wanted to let me in.

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