Andrew lay on the large bed in Barbara's former bedroom, staring at the ceiling.
Lately, he often found himself lying here. Only in this space, free from the noise of Angel and Daniela, the incessant bad advice from his mother, and the recent coldness of his father, could he find the peace to think.
Andrew carefully observed the furniture in the room, his mind repeatedly tracing the trajectory of Barbara's life here.
She would wake up in the morning, take a shower, blow-dry her hair, and put on light makeup. She would tie her long hair casually, open the window, and let the sunlight stream into the small room, bathing her head and plating her hair with a layer of gold. The morning breeze would blow through her long hair, and she would squint her eyes in enjoyment.
Andrew was almost dro
