Page 62 of The Silence Between

“I didn't mean it like that,” she said quickly. “You were doing everything you could. We all were.” She took another sip of coffee. “I just mean I had to grow up fast too.”

It was true. While I was working myself to death, Mari had stepped up in ways no kid should have to. Making sure Diego did his homework, getting Sophie to school on time when I had early shifts. She'd been more partner than sister in our little survival operation.

“You know I couldn't have done any of this without you,” I said quietly.

“I know.” She nudged my foot with hers. “That's why you're going to be lost when I leave for college.”

“Don't remind me,” I groaned. “I'm still trying to figure out who's going to make sure Sophie actually brushes her hair.”

Mari laughed. “Diego can step up.”

“Diego can barely remember to wear matching socks.”

“Fair point.” She looked out at the sunrise, suddenly serious. “I worry about you, you know.”

“About me? I'm not the one going off to college in three months.”

“That's exactly what I mean.” She turned to face me. “I'm moving forward. Diego and Sophie are growing up. You're the one who's been stuck in place.”

Before I could defend myself with something clever, Sophie's voice wailed from inside with that particular note of preteen drama that could shatter glass.

“Leo! I can't find my permission slip for the art museum! It's due today!”

Saved by the school emergency. I gulped down the last of my coffee and stood up. “Duty calls.”

“Always does,” Mari agreed, following me inside. But she gave me a look that said our conversation wasn't over.

The apartment had turned into its usual morning chaos. Sophie was emptying her backpack onto the floor like she was looking for evidence at a crime scene. Diego was zombie-walking around with one sock on, staring at his phone like it held the secrets of the universe. Mari somehow jumped right into making lunches while checking her college orientation schedule on her phone.

“The permission slip's on the fridge,” I told Sophie while helping Diego track down his math homework, which had somehow migrated to the bathroom counter. Who does math on the toilet? Teenage boys are a mystery I'll never solve. “And Diego, your geometry test is today. Remember to use the extra time Ms. Wilson set up for you.”

“Like that helps,” he muttered, hunching his lanky frame over his backpack as he shoved papers inside.

“It does help,” I countered, trying to sound encouraging but firm. “You knew all this stuff when we went over it last night. The extra time just lets your brain work the way it needs to.”

He gave me that classic teenage shrug that somehow means “whatever,” “maybe,” and “you might be right but I'd rather die than admit it” all at once.

As I ran through our usual morning circus act, signing Sophie's form, reminding Mari about her financial aid paperwork, and making sure Diego had his calculator, all the Ethan drama faded into the background for a bit. Here in the middle of family chaos, I knew what I was doing. This was my territory, the circus I'd learned to run.

Whatever happened with Ethan would have to work around this reality. My life was already jam-packed with pieces labeled “work,” “siblings,” and “keeping the power company from shutting us off.” Not a lot of room left for “figuring out complicated feelings about the guy I used to love.”

Mari handed me a travel mug of coffee as I grabbed my keys, her expression softer than usual. “Just think about what I said, okay? About figuring out what you want instead of what you can't have.”

“When did you get so smart?” I asked.

“Someone had to be the brains of this operation,” she shot back with a grin.

As I herded everyone toward the door, I found myself actually considering her words. For the first time since Ethan showed up, I let myself wonder what some kind of normal relationship with him might look like. Not hiding behind cereal displays, not some dramatic reunion, just something... normal. Something that wouldn't require me to memorize his schedule like some weird stalker.

“Earth to Leo,” Mari said, waving her hand in front of my face. “We're going to be late.”

“Right,” I said, pushing thoughts of Ethan aside for now. “Let's move, people. Education waits for no Reyes!”

As we piled into the car, Mari caught my eye in the rearview mirror and gave me a knowing look. She really did see too much. Maybe college would be good for both of us, I thought. Her moving forward, and me... well, maybe finally figuring out how to stop standing still.

* * *

“We'd startwith fifteen hours weekly, bumping up to twenty-five once your training's done,” Eleanor explained, sliding the job contract across her messy desk at Second Chapter Bookstore. Papers, coffee mugs, and at least three half-read books fought for space around her ancient computer. “The schedule works around your night janitor gig, and eventually you could ditch those diner hours completely.”

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