Soon the door bell rang, interfering with the tensed atmosphere inside the house, the air itself felt suffocating and choking to Ms maria, she never had imagined that her own children would go against her.
She turned and left Nana. Upon opening the door, Ms. Patricia Garcia could hardly believe her eyes as she stood at the door of her modest home. The delivery man, clad in a bright orange uniform and a glossy black helmet that almost shimmered in the morning sun, raised an eyebrow at her wide-eyed surprise.
"Good morning, ma'am. Is this Ms. Patricia Garcia's address?" he asked, his voice warm yet authoritative.
"Yes, how may I help you?" Patricia replied, trying to shake off the confusion that hung around her like a mist.
"Here, sign this," he said, handing her a small clipboard with a paper clip attached. Patricia scribbled her name, her mind racing with possibilities about the delivery. Had she ordered something? Was this a gift from a distant relative?
