My heart splits open. I don’t say anything. I can barely even think. I put my bowl down on the center table and reach for my sister. My fork slips and falls to the floor with a loud clank, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters, really. Nothing but Sophie. I hug her, patting her softly on the back while she sobs into my shirt. I wish desperately that I could offer her more than this—that I could promise her Ma and Pa will find a way to come back, that I could do something, but this hug is all I can give her.

“I want Ma and Pa,” she says.

“Me too, Sophie,” I answer through the knot in my throat. “Me too.”

We remain there for what feels like hours, holding each other. Then, I pick up our near-empty bowls and go into the kitchen to clean up. Like yesterday, I give Sophie a job to keep her distracted—I pass her the clean dishes and she dries them with a towel.

We’re almost done, and I’m about to turn off the water, when someone knocks on our door.

I turn sharply toward Sophie. There’s pure terror on her face as she drops the towel to come wrap her arms around my waist.

I make a shushing sound. “Stay here,” I mouth at her, and she nods once, loosening her hold on me as I start moving toward the front door.

Whoever is out there must’ve already heard noise inside the apartment. We weren’t exactly being quiet while we were washing the dishes, but I still step carefully over the wooden floors, so as not to give them any more reason to know we’re home.

Even though I’m only a few steps away from the door, it feels like I have a mile to go. I’m hoping it’ll be nothing. It could just be Mrs. Solís again, but deep down, I know I can’t be that naive. Whoever knocked must’ve come for a good reason.

When I approach the peephole, I see the blurry shape of a man’s head. I cower away from the door, alarmed by the fact that it’s definitely not Mrs. Solís. But when I gather the courage to look again, the man’s face comes into focus, and my chest deflates like a balloon. It’s Uncle Jorge.

I open the door to find him standing there, tall and strong. For a second, we remain frozen. I stare at him, and he stares back. There’s a shocked look on his face, as though he can’t believe I’m really there—as though he hadn’t been quite sure who would open the door.

And then, suddenly, I hear Sophie’s voice behind me. “Uncle Jorge!”