8
CARLOS
I set my coffee cup down sharply on the table and fought to ignore the burning sensation in my chest. Did she have a boyfriend? My question came out as a snarl, “Who’s the text from?”
She shoved her phone into her expensive bag, and lied right to my face. “No one.”
Please, she reminded me of my sister Beatrice who became sneaky and devious as a way of getting around our father’s strict rules for her.
Boys might be boys, but Drago women were born in a gilded cage, and stayed there until they married men of their own.
It must be the same for Gabriela who studied her stack of pancakes, whistling while she poured a river of syrup on top.
“You having a little pancake with your syrup?” She averted her gaze and rubbed the end of her nose, sinking into the bench seat—a mere shadow
