The Resilience of The Heart

Itzel had barricaded herself in her room for over an hour and a half after Paige left. Emelia could hear her muffled sobs through the closed door. After countless attempts, she finally hears the soft click of the lock as it gives way.

Emelia's heart raced as she pushed the door open. Itzel sat on the edge of her bed, her tear-streaked face buried in her hands. The air hung heavy with tension, and the room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn tightly against the afternoon sun. Emelia stepped closer, her voice gentle.

"Itzy," she called, but Itzel's response was sharp, a wounded animal cornered.

"You told me it's not going to happen," Itzel's voice cracked, anger and betrayal lacing her words. "That she wouldn't be able to make our families meet."

Emelia hesitated. She had doubted Paige too, but now, seeing the evidence of her success, she grappled with conflicting emotions. "Itzel," she began, "Paige has made progress, but that doesn't guarantee everything."