I know it does.
On the other end of the line, I hear him breathe.
Then:
“Bueno.”
Just one word.
Good.
I blink.
Because from a man like Emmanuel, in this context,goodis an entire speech.
“He is still on trial,” he adds immediately.
There he is.
I laugh outright this time.
“I figured.”
“And if he breaks your heart?—”
“He won’t.”
“Estrella.”
I smile despite myself.
“You wanted honesty. There it is.”
A long pause.
Then, quieter now:
“You sound different.”
I glance down the hallway toward the locker room, where life is already pulling me back into the day.
“Maybe I am.”
His voice softens by a degree. “Then be happy,hija.”
Daughter.
The word hits warm and strange and still a little sharp around the edges.
But warm.
“I am,” I say.
“I can hear it.”
That nearly undoes me.
Before either of us can get too sincere and ruin the tone completely, he adds, “I still reserve the right to terrify him.”
