“Mom, have lunch here this afternoon,” she said cheerfully. “I’ll be home early.”
Her voice sounded so happy that I smiled to myself for half the ride. I made my way to her building, let myself in, and began tidying. I swept the floor, wiped down the counters, and started preparing her favorite dishes—sinigang with tender vegetables and a small pan of fried fish. The apartment felt peaceful, warm, familiar.
Just as I was finishing the living room, the front door opened. I expected to see Maricel coming home early, but instead it was Rafael. He wore a suit, yet his shirt was slightly undone, and there was a distracted look in his eyes—not the usual calm confidence I knew.
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