Then I hear it.
A child's laugh, bright and careless, coming from inside.
My mind goes there immediately. Tomorrow morning. That same kid, bouncing into their father's room, excited to wake him up. Climbing onto the bed, shaking his shoulder. Calling his name.
And then nothing.
Just a body.
My stomach churns so hard I taste bile.
I turn to Diego, my face tight with panic.
"Yeah," he says, voice low. "I hear that too."
"I can't do this."
"What do you mean?"
"I can't." My voice cracks. "I can't. Please. Let's go."
Diego doesn't hesitate. He pulls away from the curb, slow and careful, like he's afraid the house itself might notice us leaving.
The relief hits me so fast it almost makes me dizzy.
But it doesn't last.
"You okay?" Diego asks. He looks through me.
"No."
The dread settles in, quickly overpowering the relief.
I know exactly what's waiting for me at home.
Dad's voice already echoes in my head. Telling me I'm weak. Telling me I'm a disappointment. For not being good enough. Again.
CHAPTER 13
RAUL
…present day
My cell feels even smaller in the dark. I lie on my cot staring up at the empty gray ceiling, the concrete stained in places where moisture has pooled and left darker patches behind.
The judge's words keep replaying in my head.
A plea is not forgiveness. It is not a promise. It is an agreement, if one can be reached, and the terms will matter.
The idea of a lesser sentence sends a shiver straight through me. Not because I believe I deserve it. Because I don't. I can't seem to wrap my head around the fact that I'm being given a chance to be heard at all. To be considered. To maybe, somehow, not lose everything.
Including Olivia.
Fuck.
I need to write her back.
I roll over and reach for my notebook, unhooking the pen from the spiral. For a second, I just sit there, tapping the pen against my bottom lip, staring at the page like it's going to decide what I feel for me.