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Now that I have a better idea of my plans, I need to confirm with Gabo that he’s actually okay with hosting me for the summer, and it wasn’t just something he said in the heat of the moment.

I stare at the blank screen on my phone as if it holds all the answers in the universe. There’s no better time than the present. I need to get in contact with him and see if he did mean it, but I don’t have his number—I drunkenly lost his card the night of the party—and I don’t want to ask my brothers for it. The questioning would be endless, and I’m not ready to talk about my plans with them yet. Deciding to open my clock app, I look him up. I type “Gabo Godoy, Italy” into the search bar, and no results appear.

Ugh. I mean, I don’t think people his age use this app. Maybe I’ll have better luck on Instagram.

I check Karina’s page instead of Luca’s because my brother is a famous influencer. He has over a million followers, and I think it’d be harder to find Gabo’s account that way. Once I find him in Karina’s followers, I send him a quick message:

Hi Gabo, it’s Isa—Luca’s sister. I was wondering if you were still okay with hosting me this summer? Let me know,

IB.

While I wait for Gabo’s reply, I decide to talk with my brothers. Whether he’s hosting me or not, I need my trust fund. I need capital not only to get a space that I can transform into an art gallery in Santiago—my ultimate dream—but also to have a great time while looking for the perfect art pieces to showcase in my gallery. My gallery. It sounds terrifyingly amazing.

“May I come in?” I ask Luca after I knock on his office door. He doesn’t reply, but I can hear him laughing, so I decide to go in regardless.

“Hey, Isa. Perfect timing. This boludo was just telling me how he almost burned his house down.” Luca motions for me to join him in front of the screen as he wipes the tears running down his face.

Without even looking at the screen, I already know who Luca is referring to. Gio is the worst cook in history. I’ll never forget the Christmas our parents left us with Ines, and she fell ill. Gio decided to make a cake to cheer me and Luca up—we were only ten and fourteen, after all. We were so excited to try that cake; it took Gio the entire afternoon, and the kitchen was a complete mess.

The moment I took the first bite, a flavor I wasn’t expecting was the most dominant. I tried to swallow it while pretending to smile at an expectant Gio. But Luca—being Luca—spit the mouthful of cake onto his plate, and Gio’s face fell.

“Dude, this tastes awful. Did you add sugar?”

Gio made a face and darted off to the kitchen. Luca and I followed him, and the moment he lifted the bag of salt from the counter, we all started laughing uncontrollably.

Since then, Gio gets shit every time he’s in the kitchen.

“Nah, both of you can laugh all that you want but I’ve become a really good cook. My rookie mistakes are in the past.”

“Whatever, big bro. We still love you no matter what,” I say in the condescending tone we all hate so much.

Gio heaves a deep breath, as if to say, “Lord, give me patience with these two.”

“I had just put some water on to boil to make lunch right before Luca called, and of course I got distracted, so the water spilled out of the pot, and Luca saw all the steam behind me and started howling in laughter. But the house was far from being about to burn down.”

Gio emphasizes the word “far,” making me laugh harder.

“Anyway, why did you need to speak with both of us, Isa? Is everything okay?” Gio asks with his serious, big brother tone, and I know the laughing at his expense is over.

Squaring my shoulders and smiling at my brothers, I start talking. “As both of you know, these past couple of months, I’ve been doing some research about what the next step in my life will be.” They both nod, encouraging me to continue. “During my graduation party, I spoke briefly with Gabo and—”

“What does Gabo Godoy have to do with your future?” Luca squints his Caribbean blues at me like he has suddenly become a detective. It takes everything in me not to laugh at him.

“Boludo, let her finish her idea. We can do the inquisition afterward,” Gio chirps, and I raise an eyebrow in question. “You know what I mean, we’re just curious. Please continue,” he says nicely.

“Actually, Gabo was nothing but kind and helpful when I chatted with him. He pointed out that since I just graduated with a BA, I could spend some time in Italy. There, I could not only see all the art and culture I want but also do some networking and scouting pieces I would like to have in my gallery.” I clasp my hands in front of me and smile at my brothers, expectant about what they have to say.

Gio clears his throat and rearranges his glasses. “I really like the gallery idea. I think it’s fantastic you can create a space not only for your work and self-expression, but also to bring in other artists.”

I sigh in relief at Gio’s blessing. It doesn’t matter how far away he lives; we’re in constant contact. I love how in tune I am with my brothers.

“I have to be honest; I’m not thrilled about you going so far away for months, but I need to remember you’re not a kid anymore. I know you’ve been working hard to come up with this plan, but maybe you should take some more time to think things through. Karina has told me how impressed she is by your organizational skills. From what I understand, you’ve even come up with a financial plan. Is that correct?”

I blush at Luca’s praise but nod enthusiastically. “Yeah, I mean, I took a couple of finance and administration classes as electives, and I’ve been working on a budget. I don’t want to burn all my money in my first year in business, you know?”

Both my brothers chuckle. It’s funny to see how damn similar they are—not only physically but also in their mannerisms.

“Isa, I doubt you’ll go through your trust fund in the first year. I don’t think we’ve told you how much money it is,” Gio declares, and my eyes grow as big as saucers.

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