-Roxy Delgado:
I stormed back into the house, slamming the door so hard the frame rattled. My parents— they were probably too busy somewhere in the house. The living room looked the same as always: perfect, spotless, and full of love. I could feel Mateo's eyes on me before I even turned around.
"Roxy, wait—" he started, rushing in after me, his voice already half‑pleading, half‑scolding.
But I wasn't having it. "Don't, Mateo. Not now." My voice cracked with anger. I didn't even look at him. I grabbed my keys off the counter, my hands shaking, and stomped toward the door.
He followed me out to the driveway, still talking. "Roxy, you can't just—"
"Yes, I can!" I snapped, throwing my leg over the bike. The engine roared to life like it understood me, like it was ready to run too. "If you're smart, you'll stay out of this."
"Roxy!" he called again, but I was already gone — wind cutting into my face, the world blurring into streaks of light and asphalt.
