The words were synonymous with a whisper, but they might as well have been a gunshot to my chest. My head snapped up so fast, I almost tripped.
Had she… spoken? For a brief, insane second, I thought I had imagined it.
Then she spoke again from behind the door. "What's done is done."
A sharp, bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
What's done is done? No. No, absolutely not.
I pushed up to my feet in one swift motion, the sudden movement making my head spin. My heart pounded in my ears, fueled by pure frustration and desperation.
She thought this was over? She thought I would just walk away?
"María José." My voice was rough, raw from emotion. "You're finally talking to me, and that's what you have to say?"
I ran a hand through my hair, tugging at the roots in exasperation. Dios mío, give me patience.
"No," I said firmly, shaking my head even though she couldn't see me. "No, you don't get to just say that and expect me to leave."
