ELENA
“Do you want me to stay?” Warren leans in, his fingers holding the hem of his door.
“It’s fine, I can handle her,” I state, my eyes glued to the figure in front of me. She leans on the car, her legs crossed slightly and her dress light enough to be tossed by the wind. She stands a few feet away from the license plate, the letters boldly stating:
“LUNA.”
She follows my gaze toward the plate before it trickles toward her face again. A smile splits her over-glossed lips in half. I turn toward Warren, who gives her a long, hard stare before he ducks into the car and eases himself onto the road.
I watch his taillights till they become a speck, disappearing into the fog of the night. Rosa remains quiet, as if she is giving me time to bask in her presence. My chest swells, anger ticki
