"Is this the end?" I whispered to Juan, my voice heavy with uncertainty as I searched his face for answers. His wide smile mirrored my relief, but beneath it, I sensed a lingering tension. "I suppose it is," he replied softly, his tone barely audible over the surrounding commotion. "What about the journal?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid of what the answer might be.
I pondered his question, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on my shoulders. "Only time will tell," I murmured, my gaze fixed on the line of police vans stretched out before us. The future of SanCasas lay uncertain before us, a blank canvas awaiting our touch.
Amidst our conversation, a burst of movement caught my eye. Mencia emerged from one of the police vans, her face alight with relief. "I'm so glad everyone's okay," she exclaimed, her voice filled with gratitude. Her quick actions had helped save us all.
