Twenty minutes later, Lucia disappeared upstairs while Miguel stood near the kitchen counter pouring himself coffee from a pot Sofia had started when she got his text from the airport. The house smelled like cinnamon, laundry detergent, and the chicken soup simmering on the stove. Sofia leaned against the opposite counter and watched him drink with an expression he could not quite read. Miguel assumed she was studying the new lines around his eyes, the deeper tan across his forehead, the small burn mark near his wrist from an electrical cabinet that had arced unexpectedly three weeks earlier.
"You look tired," she said. "I am tired." He reached across the counter and squeezed her hand. "But I'm home. That's the part that matters."
Sofia nodded, yet her fingers slipped out of his before his had fully relaxed.
Lucia came racing back down the stairs carrying something silver in both hands. "Dad, look what I found!" she announced, sliding to a stop on the polished floor. She held up a men's wristwatch with a broad metal bracelet and a dark face. It was large enough that when she looped it around her own wrist, it nearly fell over her hand. Miguel smiled automatically because she looked so proud of having discovered treasure.
"That's a nice watch," he said. "Whose is it?" Sofia's head snapped toward Lucia. "Sweetheart, give me that," she said quickly.