The room is bathed in soft morning light. I'm jolted awake as the door creaks open and my mother's voice, urgent yet gentle, fills the room.
“Honey, wake up. Antonio’s downstairs.”,
Confused and still half-asleep, I sit up, trying to process her words.
“What? Now? What time is it? Why is he here so early?”,
“Just past five. How would I know why you love birds have going on but He says it’s important”, she shrugged.
I nod, my mind racing. Did something happen? Why was he here so early in the morning? I throw off the blankets and tell my mom to grab me my robe, thoughts of Antonio waiting downstairs urging me on.
I walk into the living room with my hand on my waist, where Antonio stands by the window, his back to me. He turns as he hears me enter, his face lighting up with relief and
