Page 92 of Miguel

But…

“Yes,” I answered breathlessly. And the word felt right. The feeling settled in my chest, warm and enveloping. “Yes, I’m his mother.”

“Wonderful. We are just calling to let you know that we’ve looked over Ezequiel’s application and would like to formally accept him into our school.”

My heart soared and I did a little dance right there in my living room, hopping from one foot to another, trying very hard to contain my squeal.

“That’s such great news!” I said, my enthusiasm bleaching through my voice. “When can he start? What does he need?” I felt my mind moving at a rapid pace, so many questions floating through my mind at once.

The woman on the other end chuckled. “We would like for you to come in next week. Bring his paperwork and we can get him enrolled and processed quickly. If you can come meet with us, we can share our pamphlets, the school uniform, school regulations, and everything else. As well as payment or the possibility of scholarships.”

Tears burned at the backs of my eyelids. “That sounds perfect. Thank you so much for this opportunity.”

“Of course. We at the Institute can’t wait to welcome Ezequiel into our fold.”

“And we are excited for Zeke to attend. Thank you.”

We said our goodbyes, and when I hung up, I tossed my phone and squealed my excitement. It was infectious, because Zeke dissolved into a fit of laughter too. I bent and hefted him up, hugging him close to my chest, signing one handed.

“You did it, baby! You got into a good school!” I twirled him in my arms, our laughter rising together.

“What’s going on here?”

We whirled together, seeing Miguel walk into the space. I jerked back at the sight of him. Freshly showered, with his dark hair plastered against his forehead. There was a bruise forming on his eye, his lip was busted open, and there was gauze wrapped around his arm.

Seeing him like that…

My heart ached.

“Miguel…”

He stepped closer, pulling Zeke and I into the circle of his arms. He pressed a kiss to Zeke’s forehead first and then mine. Having him close brought a comfort I hadn’t known I needed. Ever since the night of the explosion, I’d been distant, but he’d been as well. I knew he was worried about us and what the club had dragged us into. I knew he was gone more often because he was handling it.

I didn’t ask how.

I didn’t want to know.

And having him here, freshly showered, beat up to shit?

I wanted to cry.

But I held the tears back, because this wasn’t about that. It wasn’t about our issues, or the problems with his club. This was about Zeke.

“I just got a call from the National Institute of Special Education. Zeke got in!”

Miguel pulled away, his eyes wide. “No shit?”

“He did!” My enthusiasm ramped up all over again, and I jumped up and down. “He can start next week! Isn’t that great?”

I turned my head up, catching his eyes. Big, full of emotion that made my own throat tighten.

“Perfect,” he whispered, pulling us closer. I swore I saw tears threaten to fall. He leaned closer, pressing his cheek to mine. He dropped his head, nose inhaling against my neck. “It’s done,” he whispered, so quietly I nearly didn’t hear. “It’s over.”

Relief and worry threaded through me. I couldn’t speak. Not for a long time. Not until I swallowed past the lump in my throat and willed the tears away. We pulled away from one another and I took a fortifying breath.

“You’re sure?” I asked. My heart broke taking in his mottled skin, and there were probably more wounds beneath that shirt he wasn’t showing.

“Yes,” he said. “You’re safe now. I promise.”

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