Chapter 51
SIRI The second we stepped inside, the air shifted. It was warmer. Heavier. Alive. The cabin’s interior was smaller than Keisha’s house but felt deeper somehow, like it stretched beyond what my eyes could see. The wooden floors creaked softly under our feet, and bundles of dried herbs hung from the ceiling beams. Sunlight filtered in through lace curtains, catching dust motes that shimmered like tiny stars. “Niñas,” her abuela called gently, already moving toward the back of the house. “Come. To the kitchen.” We followed. The kitchen felt like something out of a storybook- wide wooden counters, clay pots, iron pans hanging from hooks. A large pot simmered on the stove, steam curling upward in fragrant spirals. The scent was earthy and sweet and unfamiliar. Next to the stove sat an overwh
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