Page 109 of Espíritu

Julian’s eyes caught on it immediately—the Marca Hueca was larger now, and darker, too, shadows swirling ominously beneath Luca’s fingertips. Julian felt his pulse quicken, panic intertwining with guilt as Luca’s eyes filled with exhaustion and quiet hurt.

“You promised you’d do better, but it’s only getting worse,” Luca said.

Julian wanted desperately to explain, to reassure Luca, but he couldn’t explain everything that was going on in front of Omar, Rocky, and Flaca.

“You’re always sorry,” Omar snapped. “You say you’ll do better, but you keep doing the same thing.”

“You probably forgot Carlos’s Christmas party tonight, too, didn’t you?” Rocky added.

Julian swallowed hard. He had forgotten. Completely.

“I—I can’t tonight,” Julian said. He hated himself for forgetting, for getting so distracted. “Yadriel’s family invited me to this special thing—”

“Again?!” Omar exploded, incredulous. “You ditch us for everything! You showed up late to decorate the apartment, left us to do chores on our own, and now Carlos’s party? We’ve been your family way before Yadriel showed up!”

“It’s not like that!” Julian snapped back defensively. His heart raced again, guilt twisting into frustration. “You don’t get it! This is important, okay?!”

The room went very, very still. Somewhere in the building, a pipe rattled.

Flaca looked away, shaking her head silently. Luca just stared at the floor, clearly drained.

“You’re right, we don’t get it,” Omar said bitterly. “Because you never tell us anything.”

“I can’t tell you everything!” Julian’s voice rose, frustration turning into anger. “You have no idea what I’m dealing with right now!”

“Because you won’t let us!” Rocky yelled. “How can we help you if you keep lying to us?!”

“I wouldn’t have to lie if you guys stopped breathing down my neck all the damn time!” Julian shouted back.

His words echoed through the tense silence. Luca recoiled visibly, flinching like Julian had physically struck him. The smaller boy’s breathing grew shaky, hurt pooling in his eyes.

Julian froze. “Luca, I didn’t mean it—”

Luca shook his head, voice small and wounded. “Just stop, Julian. Please.”

Rocky stood abruptly, grabbing her jacket. “Come on, Luca. Let’s go.”

Flaca followed, pausing only to give Julian a sad, disappointed look before walking out.

Omar lingered for a second, his expression colder than Julian had ever seen it. “Enjoy whatever’s so much more important, Jules,” he said, voice low and clipped, completely shut down. Then he was gone.

Luca moved slowly past Julian, not meeting his eyes. Julian reached out instinctively, but Luca flinched away again, shoulders hunched. The apartment door closed softly behind him.

The silence left was catastrophic.

Julian stood motionless, heart hammering, shame consuming him. He closed his eyes, trying to breathe through the wave of self-loathing.

He’d done it again. Made things worse. Hurt the people he loved most.

But the Midnight Vigil was starting soon. He had to pull it together.

Julian stood outside the church at the edge of the cemetery, tugging his flannel tighter around him like it might hold him together. The cold bit his fingers. The St. Jude necklace beneath his shirt felt heavier than usual.

The fight with his friends still echoed. Luca’s voice. Omar’s bitterness. Rocky’s anger. Angel’s absence.

Angel was supposed to be here. Lita had invited her. She should have been standing here, too, candle in hand, like the rest of them.

But she wasn’t. And that absence buzzed in Julian’s head like static.