felt unnatural. Catalina sat on the edge of her bed, hand pressed lightly against her stomach as dul

ollowness of the house, and the silence of the woman who had once been her silent helper. A knock came at the

met her at the bottom of the staircase. "Sister," he said, his tone cautious but polite. "You weren't expected." "I wasn't invited either," she replied. "But I had a dream." His gaze tighte

l?" Camilla finally turned to face them. "I saw a chapel drowning in ash. A boy crying in silence. A man-not a spirit-pacing its corridors, his hands bruised, his voice torn. It was Miguel." Catalina's stomach dropped. Lucien's brow furrowed. "You're saying Miguel Cruz is alive?" Camilla didn't flinch. "I don't speak of certainty, only of what's shown to me. He was in chains. There was blood. But he was breathing." "And Gabriel?" Catalina asked, voice almost cracking. "The boy was there too. Mute as always. B

sharp energy. Her presence brought Catalina some breath. They sat in the lower lounge, doors open to the garden breeze. "I want to check on Gabriel," Catalina said after a long pause. Isa nodded, closing her laptop. "Let's go." They took the east corridor down to the garden paths. But as they arrived at the usual spot where Gabriel played, something was off. The bench was empty. The butte

eek. You've started spotting. You push your body more and you'll lose everything." Catalina flinched. "He's my father, Isa." "I know." "And Gabriel-" "I know." "You don't," Catalina snapped. "You weren't born into war. I was. And now I'm being told to sit still while men decide which part of my legacy is worth saving." The door behind them shifted. Lucien's voice cut in, low and controlled. "Is that what you think I'm doing?" Catalina froze. Isa looked up. "How long have you been listening?" "Long enough." He stepped into view. "And before you accuse me of playing god again, let's remember who risked her life sneaking into a CIA blacksite." Catalina stood, anger flashing. "Because you wouldn't let me breathe. Because I had to find him myself!" "You think I don't care about Miguel?" Lucien snapped. "I buried his memory so you wouldn't have to carry it like a cross." "You buried it because you were afraid of what you'd find!" The room trembled with si