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Her mouth opened and closed.

“I didn’t actually hit him, so it wasn’t assault...” I went on, unable to stand the silence.

“Gracie, you broke into someone’s house? What were you thinking? I mean, obviously you weren’t.”

The accusatory tone grated on me. I didn’t need someone else telling me I’d fucked up. I did enough of that on my own.

“He was sleeping with her.” The words were sharper, my anger cutting through the lingering embarrassment.

“Since when do you care who someone you hooked up with sleeps with? Did you like this guy?” She sounded more shocked by that prospect than my admission to breaking and entering.

I threw my arms up, falling back into her plush couch. “No. He was banging our boss. That’s what made him qualified to fill the position.”

“Wait, are you serious? So she fired you because you caught them sleeping together?” Ari nudged my leg. “I thought she owned the company? Why would it matter, it’s not like they’d get in trouble for it.”

I pulled at a loose thread on the pillow. “So I might’ve…said a few things. And that’s what got me fired.”

Silence stretched between us for a beat. Ari picked at her callouses, staring off at the wall in full-blown problem-solving mode—prima protection mode. A quality we shared, though our approaches were a bit different.

“Okay,” she said finally, hands up in a placating gesture. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“I’m unemployed and broke,” I said, deadpan. And now, desperate. “I burned the bridge I’ve spent years building. That job was supposed to be my in to the Public Relations world, to a career, to affording…” I let the words trail off, needing to regain control before I spiraled.

There was no way I was telling her rent went up since she moved out, and I could barely afford it alone. The promotion was the solution—the fix to my problems. It was why I’d crawled into Caleb’s window to begin with. He’d messed with my livelihood.

“Hey.” She cupped my face. “This is not all on you. They’re in the wrong.”

I wanted to believe that. I really did.

But a familiar voice in the back of my head whispered that if I’d just kept my mouth shut, if I hadn’t pushed, if I hadn’t⁠—

The front door swung open before I could finish that spiral.

“Okay, I brought our favorite cafecitos and—” Itzel’s voice cut off as she stepped into the living room, a tray of iced coffees clutched in her tanned arms. Her dark eyes bounced between us before landing on me, her waves bordering on curls framing her heart-shaped face.

“¿Qué pasó? I thought this was a happy visit to town. Why does it look like you’re consoling Chella through a breakup?” She covered a surprised gasp with a hand, the next sentence coming out muffled. “¡Híjole! Did she finally fall in love?”

Ari snorted, reaching for her drink. “I wish. She could use a good man in her life.”

“I could not.” I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. “Men deserve fewer rights and should have to do mandatory hard labor.” Starting with Caleb.

They ignored me.

“No, Graciella was fired because she broke into her coworker’s home with a hockey stick.”

“Allegedly,” I added, pulling my legs to my chest so I wouldn’t kick Ari as I sat up.

“And found him banging their boss, and she called them out on it.” Ari paused, taking a sip of the coffee-and-chocolate mixture. “Oh, but don’t worry, she didn’t hit him with Monica, so it wasn’t assault.”

“Monica?” Itzel asked, sliding the tray onto the table, her bag falling into the crook of her elbow and spilling a few droplets.

I nodded toward the corner as I wiped up the mess with my forefinger. Flavor burst on my tongue, the faint hint of cinnamon melding with the rich flavors. “The hockey stick, and it sounds bad when you say it like that, Ariella.”

“Pretty sure it’s not how I said it that made it bad.”

Itzel’s head bounced between us like she was watching a tennis match. The cheery smile she walked in with morphed into shock, then settled into horror.

I wasn’t sure if it was the committing a crime part or the mention of sex that put her over the edge.