Empezó las clases

The alarm shrieked, a jarring sound that ripped Tatiana from a dreamless sleep. She slapped at her phone, silencing the digital assault, and blinked against the stark reality of her new bedroom. Hawkins. It still felt foreign, a place she was merely passing through, a temporary stopover before she could find her way back to… where? Back to a feeling of belonging, perhaps. Back to a sense of self that had been chipped away by the relentless tide of past hurts. She swung her legs out of bed, the cool floor a shock against her bare feet. There was no time to linger in the quiet introspection of morning. School. A fresh start, they’d called it. A fresh start in a place where she knew no one, save for her aunt Emma and uncle Carlos, whose presence felt more like a watchful, critical gaze than a comforting embrace.

She dressed quickly, pulling on jeans and a simple grey t-shirt, the familiarity of the fabric a small comfort. Downstairs, the scent of coffee and something vaguely burnt – Emma’s usual morning offering – hung heavy in the air. Carlos was already at the table, engrossed in a thick book, a half-eaten piece of toast beside him. Emma, however, was in full motion, a whirlwind of sharp movements and sharper words.

“Tatiana, you’re up. Good. Don’t dawdle. You’ll be late.” Emma’s voice was a tightrope walk between concern and accusation, a melody Tatiana was quickly learning to decipher.