Saint Or Sinner?

Thirty Three.

Camila's Point Of View

The morning light seeped through my curtains, spilling golden streaks across the floor, but it didn't warm me.

It didn't soothe the ache buried deep in my chest. It was just another day, another morning where the weight of everything pressed down on me, making it hard to move, to breathe, to exist.

I curled deeper into my blankets, my body heavy with exhaustion, though I'd barely slept.

My thoughts had been relentless, circling back to the same tormenting memories—Luciano's voice, his touch, the way he looked at me as if I was his entire world. The way he shattered mine.

I wasn't ready to face the world—not today, not yet. But for Kira, I had to.

With a shaky breath, I forced myself to sit up, my feet touching the cold wooden floor.

I stared at it blankly, as if waiting for it to swallow me whole.

Outside my room, I could hear the muffled chatter of my sister and Ava. Their laughter was light, easy—so painfully distant from me. Like I was watching them from behind a glass wall, unable to reach out, unable to feel the warmth they shared.

Then, a knock at my door.

"Cami?" Ava's voice was softer than usual, laced with patience, with understanding.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, rubbing my temple.

"I'm coming," I murmured, though my body felt like lead.

Dragging myself up, I moved to my closet, grabbing a pair of jeans and a fitted top. The movements felt mechanical, like I was dressing someone else's body.

I threw on a jacket, not just because of the morning chill, but because I needed to shield myself—to hide the way I felt so unbearably cold inside.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and barely recognized the woman staring back.

My eyes were dull, hollow. The light that once filled them was gone, stolen by the very man I had trusted with my heart.

A sharp knock rattled the door again, more impatient this time.

"Come on, Camila," Kira's voice called. "We made breakfast."

Breakfast. Right.

I exhaled slowly, running a hand through my hair. I reached for my car keys, but my fingers trembled, the weight of responsibility pressing down on me.

Ava noticed. She always did.

"You drive," I said, turning to her, my voice barely above a whisper.

She didn't argue. Didn't tease me like she usually would. She simply nodded, taking the keys from my grasp with a gentle squeeze of my fingers.

"Come eat first," she said, her voice carrying something unspoken. A plea, maybe.

I followed them to the kitchen, where the scent of cinnamon tea and warm toast filled the air.

Kira had gone all out—scrambled eggs, pancakes, fresh fruit, even my favorite croissants. She always did this when she knew I was hurting. It was her way of trying to mend me, to bring back the sister she missed.

Ava was already at the counter, pouring the tea into three mugs. She slid one toward me, her eyes scanning my face.

"Drink," she instructed, but her tone was softer than usual.

I wrapped my hands around the warm cup, letting the heat seep into my skin, but it did nothing to thaw the ice wrapped around my heart.

Kira plopped into the chair beside me, biting into a strawberry.

"You know," she started, her voice light, trying to ease the tension in the room, "you should be grateful. I woke up extra early just to make all this. And I didn't burn anything this time."

Ava snorted. "That's debatable."

Kira shot her a glare before turning back to me, nudging my arm. "Eat, Moonshine."

I picked at the croissant, taking a small bite, but I barely tasted it.

Ava sighed. "You're barely eating."

I forced a tight smile. "I'm not really hungry."

They exchanged a look, one I didn't have the energy to decipher.

Kira huffed. "Fine, be stubborn. But at least drink your tea."

I took a sip, letting the warmth settle in my throat. It was something, at least.

For the next few minutes, they talked—about Kira's graduation that I missed, and I deeply regret. One of the most important days In her life, yet I missed it.

They chattered about Ava's latest work drama, about everything and nothing.

I listened, but I was mostly absent, stuck in my own head, trapped in a cycle of thoughts I couldn't escape.

At some point, Ava nudged me. "Ready to go?"

I nodded, pushing back my chair.

Kira looped her arm through mine as we walked to the door. "It's a good thing we're getting out today. You need fresh air."

I didn't tell her that no amount of fresh air would cleanse the storm inside me. But I let them drag me along anyway.

^^^^^

The car pulsed with R&B playlists, the bass thrumming through my chest.

The lyrics of some songs only reminded me of Luciano, but I didn't stop them. I let them scream at the top of their lungs, lost in their fun.

I smiled when they joked. I nodded when they talked. I even laughed—though it never quite reached my eyes.

Ava drove us to a shopping district just outside the city, a lively place with boutiques, cafés, and the kind of atmosphere that made people forget their problems, even if only for a moment.

They made a game out of picking ridiculous outfits, forcing me to try them on.

"Cami, this is the one," Ava declared, holding up a bright pink fur coat.

I gave her a flat look. "You want me to look like a cotton candy mascot?"

Kira gasped. "Wait, no. This one." She shoved a sequined jumpsuit into my arms.

I sighed. "You guys are insane."

They burst out laughing, and despite myself, a small smile tugged at my lips.

After shopping, we grabbed freshly made juices, and Ava, as expected, made it her mission to make me smile.

"You know," she started, tapping her straw against her frappuccino lid, "we should get matching tattoos. Something ridiculous. Like a tiny potato on our wrists."

Kira snorted. "Right, because Camila is dying to have a root vegetable permanently inked on her body."

I huffed a small laugh, shaking my head. "Why a potato?"

"Because they're versatile. Like you. And also, I just really love fries." Ava grinned.

I rolled my eyes, but the corner of my lips lifted. Ava's gaze lingered on me for a second, her smile softening—like she knew I needed the distraction.

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. They were dramatic, ridiculous. But I was grateful. Because for a short moment, I wasn't drowning.

Then it all shattered.