*Caterina*

Antonio Junior—even the name left a bad taste in my mouth, like swallowing gasoline and just like lighting a match right after, my anger exploded inside of my chest, an uncontrollable fire that burned with injustice and hatred.

I stared blankly at the counter of the kitchen as the white milk splashed around into the glass cup before me. It was only filled halfway before the carton was empty, and I made a mental note to pick some up tomorrow.

Mom ...