ROSALINDA.
I was seated on the front porch, gazing at nothingness and deep in thought, when Papà’s car pulled up in the driveway, grasping my attention. He scrambled out of the car and walked hastily towards the front door. Noticing his disheveled appearance, my eyes widened, and I jumped full steam on the worry train.
He looked like a total mess—clothes were stained with dust and debris, hair disheveled, and skin covered in soot. What the hell happened?!
Without hesitation, I jumped to my feet and inched closer to him. “Papà.” I called, concerned, as my eyes travelled all over his body. “What happened?"
He opened his mouth to talk, but his words died on his lips when the sound of a car revving distracted him. We both drifted our gazes to the source of the noise, and my eyes squinted
