Page 32 of Shattered

“You both look too thin.” She ushered us inside. “Maria made enough food to feed an army. You’ll eat until you can’t move, and then you’ll eat more.”

I looked at Delia, she held my gaze for a beat.

Today seemed like a good day. Elena’s eyes were clear, her movements purposeful if slower. She led us to the kitchen where Maria was indeed assembling an army’s worth of food, and Daniel was leaning against the counter looking like he hadn’t slept in days.

He caught my eye and mouthed “thank you.”

I nodded, uncomfortable with the gratitude. Staying with Delia was not a task at all, it was something I was happy doing.

“Axel!” Maria pulled me into a hug that smelled like garlic and rosemary. “You’re too skinny. Doesn’t my niece feed you?”

“I usually cook,” I said.

“Of course you do. Delia burns water.” Maria kissed Delia’s cheek. “No offense,mi amor.”

“None taken. It’s disappointingly accurate.”

We settled around the table—the same table where I’d sat for Sunday dinners as a teenager, where Miguel used to tell stories about his patients, where I’d fallen in love with a girl who talked too much.

The food was incredible. Maria had outdone herself with chicken and rice and plantains and beans and enough side dishes that the table groaned under the weight.

Elena watched us eat with that expression mothers get when feeding people makes them happy. But there was something else in her eyes too, something I couldn’t quite read.

“So,” she said after a few minutes. “How are you two managing in that little apartment?”

Delia swallowed her rice. “Fine. It’s working out.” She stared at me before adding, “Axel is very neat and organized.”

The edge in her voice was unmistakable.

“And Delia is very creative with her spatial arrangements,” I said, keeping my tone deliberately mild.

Daniel made a sound that might have been a laugh.

Elena smiled, that satisfied smile that said she was pleased about something we hadn’t explicitly stated. “I’m glad you have each other. It’s important not to be alone during hard times.”

“We’re not—” Delia started.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about?” Elena interrupted, looking between us with sudden intensity. “How I always knew you’d figure it out eventually.”

The table went silent.

“Figure what out?” Daniel asked carefully.

Elena’s smile turned knowing—that sharp, perceptive expression she used to have before the diagnosis, when she could read people like they were books written in large print. “Just that Axel and Delia make sense together. I could see it even when you were young. Some people are stubborn enough to miss what’s right in front of them.”

My heart stopped beating.

Delia laughed—forced and too bright. “Mom, you’re confused. We’re barely friends, let alone anything else.”

“I’m not confused about everything yet.” Elena’s voice was gentle but firm. “Some things I still see clearly.” She looked at Delia with unexpected sharpness. “You’ve always been too scared of being seen to notice who’s been looking.”

The words landed sharp in my chest. I felt them hit Delia too, saw her entire body go still.

Before anyone could respond, Elena changed the topic abruptly. “Does anyone want more wine? Maria, did you open the red or the white?”

“Both,Tía. Let me get you some.”

The conversation shifted, flowing around Elena’s comment like water around a stone. But the stone stayed—heavy and unavoidable.