The conversation between Atlas and me has lingered in my mind over the past few days, like a persistent echo I cannot shake off. As much as I yearn to lash out and rebel against everything that was said, I find myself unable to do so. I cannot afford to let people believe I am a threat or that I should disappear. I have to continue to protect the people I love here. Even if they don’t think they need protecting.
Settling into a wooden chair in La Moria, the quaint local café my mother used to frequent with me when I was a child, I let the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries that fills the air, wrap around me in a cocoon of nostalgia. I'm waiting for Brina to arrive, slightly surprised by her request to meet here. I can't recall her ever expressing a desire to leave the comfort of her home. It is always Tatum who ventures out to fetch things for her.
