Page 271 of Bad Prince
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Stella
The air feels different out here.
Not cleaner.
Not lighter.
Just… quieter.
North Fair Oaks isn’t polished like campus. It doesn’t pretend to be anything it’s not. The sidewalks are uneven, the storefronts sun-faded, hand-painted signs taped to windows advertising specials in looping Spanish script.
It smells like grilled meat, fresh tortillas, sugar, and citrus.
A lot like home. Or at least… something close enough to it that my chest loosens a little.
I walk slowly.
There’s no practice. No schedule. No eyes on me.
Just me, a canvas tote over my shoulder, fingers brushing over tables of jewelry, woven bracelets, hand-carved trinkets.
I pick up a pair of earrings.
Bright.
Gold.
A little dramatic.
My mom would love them.
“¿Cuánto cuesta?”I ask.
The woman smiles. “Para ti, mija… cinco.”
I laugh softly and hand her the money.
“For my mamá,” I say, switching back to English without thinking.
She nods like she understands anyway.
They always do.
I keep walking.
Coffee in hand.
Cuban.
Strong enough to wake the dead.
The kind that sits heavy in your chest and sharp on your tongue.
I take a sip.
Close my eyes for half a second.
