"Itzel, I..." Emelia's voice trailed off, her eyes clouded with a mix of apprehension and desperation. "Nothing has been decided yet," she added, her words laced with a hint of pleading, as if trying to convince her daughter to stay and listen.
But Itzel was unfazed, her expression a mask of disbelief and frustration. She scowled, her lips pursed in disgust, as she sidestepped her mother with a swiftness that belied her anger.
Emelia's eyes followed her, her face a picture of anxiety and fear, as she called out, "Where are you going?"
But Itzel was already gone, leaving Emelia standing alone in the hallway, her words hanging in the air like a futile attempt to salvage a sinking ship.
She walks out of the door, boiling with anger as she trails to her car. Her heels clicked on the pavement, the sound echoing through the silence like a ticking time bomb. She yanks open the door, slides into the driver's seat, and starts the engine with a roar.
