war was over || camren

one

July, 2006

Alejandro's POV

I was driving down the road at almost a crawl, looking out for my daughter's puppy that escaped our backyard and ran away. I sighed and ran a hand down my face with the realization that I'd probably never find him and that I'd have to face my daughter's disappointed face.

We hadn't even had the opportunity to name the little guy officially, even though I know Mila was set on naming him Princess. I sighed again at the sight of sundown and turned around to go back home empty-handed.

A couple of minutes later, I had pulled into the driveway, and no sooner had I put the car in park, did I have three preteen girls running out the front door. Following them at a more reasonable pace was my stunning and beautiful wife, Sinuhe, who was carrying our months-old daughter, Sofia.

"Did you find him, Mr. Cabello?"
"You found Princess?"
"Where is he?" were some of the questions thrown my way by 15 year old Ally, 14 year old Normani, and my 12 year old daughter, Karla -- sorry, Camila. She's been so adamant about being called by her middle name lately.

I shook my head slowly and watched as their excited and hopeful faces fell. Every parent hates when that happens, because it's disheartening to think that maybe you could've just tried harder, or in my case, looked harder.

"He's a dog, you know? Dogs always find their way back home," I say, trying to placate them before my daughter throws a tantrum of some sort.

"Are you sure?" Normani asks me, skeptical.

"Yes, I'm most certainly, 100% sure."

"Do you promise, daddy?" Camila asks, her big brown eyes reminding me of the puppy I had been searching for.

"I promise, mija." I hope this doesn't come back to bite me in the ass.

———
Same time

Mike's POV

The hell did she go? I think to myself as I stand out on my front porch. I take a swig of my beer and sit down on one of the outdoor chairs, planning on giving her hell for leaving the house and not saying a word to me.

My ex-wife walked outside with a bottle of Jack in one hand and car keys in another, and that grabbed my attention. I sat up.

"The hell're you doin' with my keys and my Jack? That's Number 27 Gold, that shit is expensive!" I exclaim, getting to my feet, swaying slightly as I try to swipe the bottle.

"Michael, you need to get your shit together. It's 10 o'clock at night and you're drunk off your ass, and you have no idea where your 14 year old daughter is."

I scoff. "Our 14 year old daughter, Clara. She's not just my responsibility, so don't go pushing all this blame on me. Where were you, huh? What were you doing when she just walked out of here?" I say, turning the tables on her.

I see her eyebrows furrow in anger and I know she's about to blow up at me about something. What I didn't expect was for her to throw my aged Jack Daniels onto the porch, showering us both in glass shards and whiskey.

Before I can have an explosion of my own, I stop and look down at her face, and I look as closely as my mostly unfocused eyes allow.

And that's when I see a little, tiny bit of white powder just inside her left nostril. Looking now, I can see how dilated her pupils are, so I grab her wrist, and can immediately feel how fast her pulse is racing.