Dinner should have smelled delicious.

Warm, soft, seasoned…

The type of meal that would normally make someone relaxed after a long day.

But for Camilia, it tasted like nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

She sat at the long mahogany dining table, surrounded by too much silence, her spoon moving back and forth through the food without actually lifting anything to her mouth. Her hand trembled slightly with every movement.

Her phone was beside her plate — the last message she sent to Rosita ...