Chapter 10: The First Step
Rosa led Mateo away from the debris, taking him to the large, sunlit kitchen at the back of the house. It was the only room in the mansion that actually felt lived-in. She sat him down at the large wooden island and poured him a glass of cold water.
"Drink," she instructed gently.
Mateo took the glass with trembling hands and took a sip. The silence between them was no longer tense; it was exhausted. The storm had passed, leaving behind a fragile, quiet calm.
"Why didn't you yell?" Mateo finally asked, his voice hoarse.
May you like
Rosa leaned against the counter, looking at the boy who had so much privilege and so little peace. "Because, Mateo," she said softly, "yelling is just noise. And you've had enough noise in your head for one day. What you needed was someone to listen."
It was the first time in years that Mateo felt truly heard. And as he sat in the kitchen, nursing his glass of water, the heavy, suffocating weight in his chest finally began to lift. It was just a crack in the armor, a small chip in the ice, but it was a beginning. The shattered teacup in the hallway was a mess, but as Rosa had promised, they would clean it up. Together.
