DIABLO
Morning brings the wrong visitor.
Not my guy at the door, not the expected face. Abel arrives instead, as rough and unruffled as ever, like sleep never bothers him. The house feels smaller the moment he steps inside.
Downstairs waits the kitchen, already occupied. Coffee is being poured before a word is said.
A quiet presence stands too close. The sound never comes until it is too late.
“I wish you would not do that,” comes out of my mouth as the cup is filled. “It gets under my skin how silent you move.”
A smile answers me. “Learned from the best.”
The mug is pushed across the counter. Then his phone turns in his hand so the screen faces me.
“A present, baby brother.”
Confusion tightens my brow. “What am I supposed to be seeing?”
“A live feed from your place.”
Recognitio
