Leo took the phone. "What? Avó Marta? She's. No. She can't be. We were supposed to visit. Tomorrow. With Isabella. She was supposed to meet her great-granddaughter. She was supposed to."

His voice broke. Reality crushing. His grandmother. The woman who'd loved him unconditionally. Who'd told him stories about his birth mother. Who'd connected him to Isabela. Gone.

"She died peacefully," Elena repeated gently. "In her sleep. No pain. No distress. Just. Slipped away. Like she was ready. Like she'd been waiting for something. And once it came. She could let go."

"Waiting for what?"

"I don't know. But this afternoon. She seemed. Different. Peaceful. Happy. She kept saying 'the...