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"It's alright, Laura," The older woman said gently. "Go back downstairs and continue what you were doing. This is just one of Penelope's breakdown moments. You don't have to worry"

Laura hesitated. "But Mrs. Torres, I heard—"

She shook her head. "I know, dear. But there's nothing you can do right now. Penelope needs her space to work through this. She'll come down when she's ready."

Laura glanced up the stairs, for a long moment, then she reluctantly, turned and made her way back to the kitchen.

Genevieve Torres watched her retreat to the kitchen before slowly making her way back upstairs. As she reached the top of the stairs, she paused outside her room, listening to the quiet that had followed the storm of noise. She didn't enter; she knew her daughter's need for privacy. Instead, she placed a gentle hand on the closed door, and sighed.

Penelope sighed deeply. Her eyes was red and puffy from crying, and they were fixed on the screen of her phone. There, staring back at her, w