Page 166 of Espíritu

“Now!” Julian confirmed, already halfway to the door.

Rio looked up from the kitchen, narrowed his eyes … then reached into his pocket and held out the keys to the Stingray.

“Here,” he said. “Just don’t wreck it.”

Julian froze. “Wait—are you serious? You’re letting me drive the Stingray?!”

He darted forward to snatch the keys, but Rio jerked them back just out of reach.

“Don’t wreck it,” he repeated. “And NO SPEEDING.”

“I WON’T, I WON’T, I WON’T, I SWEAR,” Julian said, bouncing on his toes like a kid on Christmas—which, technically, he was.

From the couch, Maritza waved them off with her candy cane. “I’m staying here and eating more cookies. Go be disgustingly romantic somewhere else.”

Yadriel laughed, slipping on his jacket. “We won’t be long.”

“Good,” Maritza said. “You’re escorting me home like a gentleman.”

Julian tossed her a salute, then burst out the door, keys in hand, with Yadriel close behind.

The sleek blue car gleamed in the crisp morning light. He opened the driver’s side door and slid in like he was claiming a throne. For a second, he just sat there, gripping the wheel with both hands, eyes wide with glee.

Yadriel climbed into the passenger seat and shut the door, casting him a look somewhere between amused and concerned. “You’re vibrating.”

“Do you feel that?” Julian asked, eyes gleaming. “That’s the sound of every traffic law crying.”

He spotted something tucked into the visor—an old photo of him and Rio as kids with their dad, Ramon. Julian gently pulled it out, his breath catching at the sight of his dad’s wide grin and Rio’s serious expression, his own tiny face sticky with what had probably been ice cream.

Yadriel glanced over and smiled. “I love that picture.”

Julian nodded and grinned. “Me too,” he said, tucking the photo back into place and giving the dashboard an affectionate pat.

He sat back and turned the key, and the engine roared to life—deep, throaty, and alive.

Julian’s grin returned, bright and unstoppable.

“All right, old man,” he muttered, throwing the car into gear. “Let’s hit it.”

Yadriel just shook his head, smiling as they pulled out into the street.

The cemetery was quiet, the morning still wrapped in the hush of holiday calm. The gates creaked gently behind them as Julian parked along the outer wall and climbed out, Yadriel trailing with a curious glance.

“Okay,” Julian said, practically vibrating with excitement. “Close your eyes!”

Yadriel arched a brow. “Seriously?”

Julian grinned. “Yes! Trust me!”

With a soft sigh, Yadriel obliged, letting Julian take his hand. They walked a short way along the outer edge of the cemetery—a tucked-away corner near the toolshed, hidden from the main paths.

Julian had chosen it on purpose. Far enough from view that most people wouldn’t notice, unless they were looking for it. The wall had once been covered in peeling paint and rogue ivy.

Julian let go of Yadriel’s hand. “Okay. Open.”

Yadriel blinked his eyes open, and his breath caught.

Julian gestured grandly. “TA-DA!”