The house felt too big that morning.
Not empty — a ranch is never truly empty — but quiet in a different way. Marco had left early for the city, and even knowing he would be back by the end of the day, his absence shifted everything. As if the axis of things had moved a few inches and my body was still trying to adjust.
Rosa was with me in the kitchen, filling the space with the ease of someone who belonged there. She chopped vegetables with practiced precision while I stirred a pot on the stove, far more focused on my own thoughts than on the good smell spreading through the room.
— Did you sleep any better today? — she asked without looking at me, as if she already knew the answer.
— A little — I said, even though it was only half true.
My body was fine. At least, that was what I ke
