Page 56 of Before Dawn

@abi_asher:I’ll take your word for it.

“You look happy.”

I turned around. Emilia stood in the doorway, arms crossed.

Quickly, I texted Abigail:I’ll be back, my sister’s here.

Then, I laughed.

“What happened?” Emilia asked, stepping into the room. “You’re normally deep in a proposal.”

I rolled my eyes. “Are pigs flying, or are youactuallytalking to me,hermana?32”

She scoffed. “I just had about threePalomasfrom Mamá y papá restaurant, so I’m plied with enough alcohol.”

“Risky.Never knew you drank.”

She rolled her eyes and moved to sit on my bed, letting out a deep sigh.

“¿Qué pasa?”33 I asked.

She hesitated, then met my gaze. “I don’t hate you, Mikkel.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I don’t hate you,” she repeated, then paused before continuing. “Sometimes, I can’t handle my emotions, and I only turn to myself. That’s why I come off the way I do, but I don’t hate you. I couldn’t,hermano.”34

Without thinking, I pulled her into a hug. “I know you have a lot going on. Sometimes, I just worry about you.Pero te quiero mucho.”35

She nodded against my shoulder, hugging me back.

As we pulled apart, my phone rang. Morison.

I was about to decline when Emilia nudged me. “Go on. I’m going to help Mamá bake.”

While left, I stepped by the window, pressing the phone to my ear. “Morison, what’s up?”

“Payroll issue,” he said, frustration laced in his voice. “There’s a miscalculation, and I need your approval to override it.”

I sighed, rubbing my temple. “Send it over. I’ll look at it now.”

After reviewing the issue and signing off on the necessary adjustments, exhaustion hit me like a freight train. I barely made it onto the bed before sleep pulled me under.

When I woke up, the first thing I did was check my phone. Abigail had sent a message saying she was going to finish packing, to which I replied,Sorry about the abrupt pause earlier, I fell asleep. I hope packing isn’t too tiring.

I stretched and made my way downstairs, finding the house unusually quiet, with no one around. On the counter sat a bowl ofrabo guisadoand a plate ofbuñuelos—leftovers from whatever Mamá and Emilia had beencooking earlier. I ate in silence, the warm flavors settling comfortably in my stomach.

Back upstairs, Arnoldo and I sifted through legal documents, handling contract revisions and ensuring that everything was solid for the expansion pitch.

Then, finally, my phone pinged with a message from Abigail.

@abi_asher:I gave up halfway.

me:You tried, that’s all that matters.

@abi_asher:Trying to make me feel good about my failures?

me:Hardly a failure, Red.

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