Maia Mesa grew up with her family in Cuba, but that suddenly changed, and she found herself in a position no one wishes to be, without family.
Marcus Burnett, a repentant and good soul takes her as his own daughter, as well his wife Theresa, a new...
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•¤¤¤《《《》》》¤¤¤•
The night has settled in, bringing with it a bone-chilling cold that cuts through our clothes and makes each breath feel icy.
We've managed to build a small campfire, its flames dancing weakly in the chilly air. The firelight struggles to push back the darkness, casting long shadows.
We huddle around the fire, trying to soak up its meager warmth. Our faces are dimly lit by the flickering glow, our breath misting in the cold air as we lean in close for comfort. The vast, starless sky above feels endless and oppressive, making the night seem even colder and more desolate. Despite our efforts to stay warm, the darkness feels overwhelming, and the cold seeps into every crevice, leaving us longing for the comfort of home.
"The universe is crazy, ain't it?" Dad says, his gaze fixed on the dark sky above. Armando, who is taking sit beside me, tosses some branches into the fire. Dad looks at each of us, his eyes reflecting the fire's glow. "Look at us. I bet none of us thought when we woke up today that this is where we'd end up." He turns his attention to Armando, who's completely focus feeding the flames. "You, outta jail." He shifts his gaze to Mike. ""We going to jail. My sweet, beautiful daughter, right there with us." He chuckles softly. "This shit is special."
"Maybe you also didn't expect Mom to lock you up this morning," I add, letting out a sigh as I stare into the fire.
"That shit was special too," Dad says, pointing at me before turning back to Mike. "Mike. Is there anything you would like to say to Armando?"
Mike frowns, his irritation clear. "Fuck you talking to me like that? No."
"Mike, this is the moment." Dad presses, trying to coax something meaningful out of him. I can feel Armando shifting uncomfortably beside me, clearly aware of the conversation but doing his best to act like he isn't. "Express with your son."
Mike takes a moment, the silence stretching out before he finally speaks. "I'm sorry," he says, his eyes locking onto his son.
"That's what I'm talking about!" Dad exclaims, a victorious grin spreading across his face.
"For what?" Armando asks, his voice steady as he looks at Mike.
"For everything, man," Mike replies, his tone heavy with regret. "Seems like bad shit happens to anyone I love, so... I'm starting to think maybe I'm cursed. I just feel like, maybe I cursed you."
"You ain't fucking cursed me." Armando retorts. "Bad shit happens to everybody. It ain't always about you."
The air thickens with awkwardness, the moment doesn't land the way Dad hoped, but he pushes on, breaking the awkward silence. "Hey, Armando." He shifts Armando's attention back to him. "I don't know if I told you this, but I died a couple of weeks ago."
