It was supposed to be a relaxed, no-drama weekend. Just a quick getaway before the chill of fall settled in—me, Uncle Mateo, and Delia with our beach chairs and iced drinks. We hadn’t even planned to visit that stretch of coast. Our usual spot had been packed, so we drove further down, following instinct and the promise of open sand. I was at a small shack grabbing cold drinks when I noticed her. She was helping an elderly woman lower into a beach chair, gentle and attentive. Her gestures were soft, practiced—like she’d done it a hundred times. Then she...
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