Papa stood a little behind us, watching everything with that soft, hopeful look he always had around Aunt Lara. He opened his mouth to say something — probably good morning — but before he could get a word out, Aunt Lara scoffed lightly, turned around, and shut the front door with a firm click.
Papa’s shoulders slumped in obvious frustration. He let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair.
Lyra walked over and patted his shoulder with pity. “Tough luck, Dad. She’s still mad.”
Papa gave her a small, sad smile. “I know. I deserve it.”
Maria took my hand again, squeezing it gently as we walked toward the car. “Don’t worry, Rose. Mama will forgive him eventually. She’s just… protecting her heart.”
I nodded, holding Maria’s hand tightly as we climbed into the SUV. Papa got in the
