Camila

A little earlier

I tried not to notice Dante hurrying past us without a word. My concentration was on my sister. Even though we’d recently seen her at the wedding, I couldn’t get over how she absolutely glowed, dressed like a stereotypical Mafia wife in a flowing white pantsuit, large chunky gold jewelry, and low heels. Her long dark hair spilled over her shoulders in waves. Leaving our luggage behind, Mama and I rushed toward Catalina. The opulent surroundings were ...