The call came late at night. Gabriel had just stepped out of the shower when his phone rang, and the moment he answered, I knew. I saw it in his eyes. How the color drained from his face, how his grip tightened around the device as if holding onto it could somehow change what he was hearing.
His grandmother was gone.
He didn’t say a word. Just stood there, towel slung low on his hips, water still dripping from his hair. I barely had time to react before he turned on his heel and left the room, walking out as if the walls were caving in on him.
I followed him to the balcony, where he stood, hands braced against the railing, head bowed. The city lights stretched endlessly before us, but I knew he wasn’t seeing any of it. His shoulders were trembling slightly, his breath uneven. Gabriel ne
