Nobody shouted.
Nobody demanded an apology.
We simply wiped it up.
At sunset, I stepped onto the balcony.
Madrid stretched before me, its rooftops glowing amber beneath the evening sky.
Inside, I could hear my mother laughing.
Lucía was arguing playfully with Elena about the correct way to cut cake.
The smell of coffee floated through the open door.
I rested my hands on the balcony railing.
My phone vibrated.
For a brief second, my body tensed.
Then I looked at the screen.
It was a message from a woman who had attended one of my workshops.
I opened my own bank account today. I was scared, but I did it. Thank you.
I read the words slowly.
Then I smiled.
Behind me, Lucía appeared in the doorway.
"Clara! Are you coming? Mamá says we're not starting dessert without you."
I turned.
The apartment glowed with warm light.
