Three months slipped by like a tide, steady and unstoppable, reshaping Olivia’s life in quiet, undeniable ways. When she looked back, she could hardly recognize the girl who once stood behind a cashier counter, counting coins and swallowing dreams. Now, she lived in the Jimenez household, a home of clean silence and ordered spaces, where no voices rose, no hands struck, and no footsteps hunted her through hallways. It was strange, almost disorienting, to wake without fear.
Her marriage with Simon had settled into its own rhythm. Their intimacy was no longer quiet or tentative. Olivia, once soft-spoken in every corner of her life, became unguarded with him behind closed doors. In their room, her voice did not disappear the way it used to in the Salvador house. It rose, full, breathless, un
