Sunday came too soon.
The morning was heavy with heat and quiet. Abbie sat on the edge of the sofa, watching as Nana Sela folded the last of her clothes into a small, worn suitcase, the same one she’d brought from Bicol. The sound of the zipper closing felt final.
“You sure you’ll be okay?” Nana asked, turning to her.
Abbie nodded, even though her chest felt tight. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”
Nana’s eyes softened. “You always say that like it’s armor.”
Abbie managed a small smile. “Maybe it is.”
The elevator ride down was silent except for the hum of cables. Outside, a taxi waited. Roxanne was still asleep, she had come home late from her party, leaving the sisters’ goodbye hanging unfinished in the air.
At the curb, Nana Sela took Abbie’s hands, her fingers warm and rough from years of w
