the spaces between

gone again

isa slipped through the front door as quietly as possible, heart still thudding like it hadn't figured out the storm was over. matt's hoodie clung to her skin, heavier now that it was dry, carrying a weight she couldn't name.

the living room was dim except for the glow of a single lamp. she barely had time to set her shoes down before she noticed luca — pacing back and forth, phone pressed to his ear, his voice low and urgent.

"sí, mamá... lo sé," he said, rubbing his forehead. his other hand cut the air in sharp gestures, like even his body couldn't keep calm. "pero no podemos esperar más, ¿entiendes?"

isa froze halfway into the room. the way he said it — that clipped edge — made something coil in her stomach.

she waited until his eyes flicked up and caught hers. he gave her a quick nod — wait a sec — and kept talking.

"sí... sí. next week, then. no later. i'll book them."

next week. flights.

her chest went cold before her brain could catch up.

when luca finally hung up, he let out a breath like he'd been holding it for hours. his fingers dragged through his hair, leaving it standing in messy spikes. then his eyes landed on her again — sharper this time, full of things she didn't want to hear.

"isa," he said, voice low. "we need to talk."

she nodded, even though her throat felt tight.

"tia emilia," he started. just her name was enough to make isa's stomach drop. "she's worse. mamá says... we have to go. like—" he swallowed. "we're flying to spain next week."

the room tilted. next week.

suddenly she wasn't in the living room anymore.

she was sixteen again, standing in a hospital hallway that smelled like antiseptic and fear, clutching a paper cup of water she never drank. the beeping from the monitors wouldn't stop. every sound felt too loud — nurses' shoes on tile, someone coughing down the hall, her own breathing turning shallow as she stared through a doorway she couldn't step past.

"isa?" luca's voice sliced through the fog.

she blinked hard, pulling herself back into the living room. the lamp. the couch. luca, watching her with that look — equal parts worry and something heavier.

"yeah," she said, but it came out thin. "yeah, okay. next week."

luca's gaze dropped then — and landed on the hoodie she was wearing. matt's hoodie. his brows shot up, and for a second, the hospital and the storm and everything else fell away under the weight of his smirk.

"wait," he said slowly, leaning against the wall like he had all the time in the world. "where were you last night?"

isa felt heat crawl up her neck. "out," she muttered.

"uh-huh. out. in matt's hoodie."

"luca—"

"no, no, don't 'luca' me," he said, grinning now in that infuriating younger-brother way. "did you...?"

she groaned. "oh my god, no. stop."

he raised his hands in mock surrender, but the look didn't leave his face. "just saying... you could do worse than matt. dude's... solid."

her chest squeezed for reasons she didn't want to think about. "can we not do this right now?" she snapped, sharper than she meant.

luca's smile faded. he studied her for a beat, then nodded, serious again. "okay. flights, then."