I pushed back my chair, the weight of the Alfonzo family's drama pressing down on me like a heavy stone.
My legs felt wobbly as I stood, my body yearning for the sanctuary of my room.
I needed to breathe, to think, to piece together the frayed strands of my emotions before they unraveled completely.
But just as I took my first step, a sharp voice pierced the air.
"Maria."
I froze mid-step, my heart sinking.
Mrs. Alfonzo's tone wasn't just cold—it was arctic, her anger so palpable it practically radiated off her.
I turned slowly, my pulse quickening as her piercing gaze met mine.
"Going somewhere?" she asked, her voice deceptively calm.
"Yes," I said, trying to keep my tone neutral. "To my room."
She raised a brow.
"Not so fast. We need to talk."
"Mrs. Alfonzo," I said, already feeling the exhaustion creep in. "It's been a tiring morning, and I really—"
