Shouts. Rafa's voice, raw and cracked. Then Mateo's, lower, urgent.
"They're sending me away," he choked. "The school called. I failed three classes. Marco's going to kill me." lias big stepfamily
They had history. Marco would say, "Remember that time at the lake, Rafa?" and the other three would dissolve into a private symphony of laughter. Sofia knew the exact way Mateo took his coffee (black, one sugar, stirred seven times). Isabel knew the secret spot behind Marco’s ear that made him purr like a cat when he was sad. Lia was a guest at a table where everyone else knew the password. Shouts
Rafa stared at her. The letter trembled in his hand. "How do you know that?" "They're sending me away," he choked
The first rule of the Big Stepfamily, as Marco jokingly called it, was "Shared Spaces, Shared Grace." This meant no locked doors (except the bathroom), a rotating chore chart laminated on the fridge, and a "community dinner" every Sunday. For Lia, who had spent years eating microwaved soup in front of her laptop while her mother worked late shifts, this was a form of slow torture.
Lia felt the word like a slap. Extra. Not "more." Extra.