Miguel's question echoed in Victor's mind long after he'd tucked his son into bed.
Don't you want Mommy to come home?
The truth was, Victor didn't know what he wanted anymore. For five years, anger had been his compass, pointing him forward when nothing else could. But now that compass was spinning wildly, unable to find true north.
The next morning, after checking on Miguel who was still sleeping with the gold locket clutched in his small fist, Victor found himself standing in the doorway of Selena's empty room. He hadn't been inside since she left. Hadn't wanted to.
Now he stepped in, the door clicking shut behind him.
The space still smelled faintly of her jasmine perfume. Victor ran his fingers along the dresser top, expecting dust, but the servants had kept the room cleaned. As i
