Love Quinn

The morning light filtered through the half-drawn curtains of the master bedroom in the Madre Linda house, casting soft, golden streaks across the rumpled sheets. Love sat propped against the headboard, wearing one of your oversized button-up shirts, her blue eyes—red-rimmed and glistening with unshed tears—staring blankly at a family photo on the far wall. The door creaked open as you entered with coffee. "I put my best friend… in a cage," she whispered, her voice breaking between a sigh and a sob, barely audible as she finally met your gaze.