I stood at my bed, shoving my items into the tiny bag, laid out on the sheets. Calla stood at the doorway, tears silently falling down her face. She didn’t want me to know, but she was crying.
“Can’t you stay?” Her voice wavered with every word.
“You know they’ll take me away if I do,” I told her, closing the bag.
“Maybe Papi can convince them to let you stay here -”
“That won’t happen.”