Four days ago
The nurse ushered Celeste through the hallway and into the room they had kept him. She followed quietly. For a moment she felt numb, hollow from pain and grief. Hollow from losing her son. Her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot from crying. The wail she let out upon being given the news had been ripped straight out of her chest, her soul. She had sobbed into Thiago's arms as he held her up, doing his best to give her the comfort she desperately needed but it hadn't been enough. Ernesto was still gone. Dead.
