All these decades later, and Clint is still furious at everything his wonderful mother had to endure. He grabs the napkin and wipes his tears.

“There’s a woman I love,” Rolando says.

“Does she love you back?”

“She’s married.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Rolando sips his coffee. “I hope she does. I think she does. But she won’t leave her abusive husband because of their son. I wish Gloria had the common sense to leave like your mother. I’m scared her husband is going to kill her one day.”

“Have you told her this?”

“It hasn’t felt like my place.”

“When will you tell her? Her funeral?”

Rolando’s eyes water.

Clint thinks about that plane ride again. “I think it’s time for you to leave, my friend.”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“It’s about saying something right to the person who matters the most. While you can.”

Rolando tries paying, but Clint gestures him away.

“I’ve got this,” Clint says, waving Rolando’s money away. Clint has made a lot of money and invested in many places, including a dance club. “Go help Gloria.”

“Are you sure there isn’t anything else I can do for you?”

“Be a good role model to Gloria’s extraordinary son. Show him what a father should be.”

Clint himself never had any children. That’s a story for another person.

“Good luck with the rest of your day, Clint. I’m sorry we’ll lose you.”

“I hope you have a long life, Rolando.”

The two hug, and Rolando runs to the street, standing outside the window as he makes a phone call.

In all of Clint’s years of people-watching, this is the most connected he’s felt to someone outside his window.

It goes to show that even on your way out, there’s still time to let people in.

Gloria Dario

11:22 a.m.

Gloria wants the best for her son—always has, always will. But sometimes she worries about the career path Pazito is pursuing. For as long as she can remember, there have been horror stories about child actors with bright futures becoming unhappy adults, and the many ways in which they try burying that unhappiness.