The feeling of heartbreak stays with me until dinnertime. It’s only made worse by the fact that Jorge came home from work looking a little flustered. He had a whispered conversation with Amy in the kitchen while they were making dinner, and now he’s looking more serious than I’ve seen him in a while.

“How was work today?” I ask him, because that’s what I assume is bothering him—something must’ve happened at the office.

He shakes his head a little. “It was a crazy day.”

Amy sighs loudly, but she doesn’t say anything. I watch her closely while we eat. She holds her fork and knife delicately, eating small pieces of chicken. After every few bites, she lets out another loud sigh.

I turn to look at my sister instead, who has put her fork down and is staring at her plate with a blank look on her face. Even though I want to say something—bring up the things Maria said to me on the phone, or ask my sister how she’s feeling—I can’t bring myself to speak all through dinner.

“You can talk to me, Sophie,” I say to her later that night while we settle on the couch to watch Pasiones de tu Corazón. “You know you can tell me anything, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she replies without even looking at me.

A part of me wants to dig deeper into what’s going through her mind, but I’m also afraid—afraid of what she might say, of having to explain to her once more why we can’t go be with Ma and Pa.

The opening credits of Pasiones start playing before I can say anything else. Even though my eyes are fixed on the screen, I just can’t focus on tonight’s episode. I can’t stop thinking about Sophie’s silence, or beating myself up for not being brave enough to start the conversations we should be having.

Later in the week, we wake up to a loud bang that makes the windows in the apartment rattle.

I shoot up from bed, my heart pounding against my chest. The first thing I realize is that Sophie is beside me, and she’s also sitting up. I give a small sigh of relief, because at least she’s safe. Then I look around the bedroom. The curtains are still drawn, but there’s warm sunlight coming in through a small gap, which tells me it must be seven or eight in the morning.

For a second, everything is quiet, as it should be. If it wasn’t because of the fear I see reflected in Sophie’s eyes, I would think that I probably just imagined the bang.