“Gabriel! You’re home early!” She came over and kissed my cheek. Then she noticed the table, and noticed Sofia sitting at it, and her smile tightened by a fraction. “Oh. You made dinner.”
“I did. Sit down, everyone. You must be hungry.”
Elvira looked at Sofia, then at the floor, then back at Sofia. “The floors don’t look mopped.”
“They aren’t,” I said. “Sit down.”
Something in my voice made them obey.
Bianca dropped into a chair and stared at Sofia. “Since when does she eat with us?”
“Since always,” I said. “She’s my daughter. This is her house.”
Lorena laughed nervously. Patricia reached across and patted my hand. “Of course she is, amor. We just have a little system while you’re gone. Sofia’s been helping out, learning responsibility. Haven’t you, mija?”
Sofia looked down at her plate. Then she looked at me. And for the first time in what must have been a very long time, she didn’t answer the way she’d been trained to.
