Like You’ve Nothing Left to Prove (Breakaway #2)

by E.L. Massey

They scramble out of the truck, laughing, and manage to get in the door, dog included, by the time it hits 10:30. “Cutting it close,” Papá says, faux disapproving. “Do you remember,” Abuela says to Papá, from where she’s crocheting on the couch, “that one time you say you’ll have Alicia home by midnight, and instead, you bring her back three days later and married?” Papá clears his throat. “Well. I hope you boys had a nice night. I should be getting to bed now.”