
The rain poured relentlessly over the old apartment complex, its walls stained with time and neglect. In one of the dimly lit rooms, Elena sat on a torn couch, holding her little brother, Miguel, close to her chest. Their mother, Rosa, stood near the window, her hands clenched into fists as she faced the landlord.
"I'm giving you one more day, Rosa," the man barked, his voice dripping with irritation. "One day. If you don’t have my money, you're out."
Rosa swallowed hard, exhaustion etched into her face. "Please, Señor Vargas. My husband… he was supposed to send money, but—"
"I don't care about your excuses!" The landlord slammed the door shut behind him, the sound echoing through the nearly empty apartment.
Elena looked at her mother, who seemed smaller than ever. Miguel whimpered, clutching her arm.
A soft knock broke the silence. It was Sofia, their neighbor. She stepped inside cautiously, her eyes filled with worry. Without a word, she placed a small bundle of bills into Rosa's hand.
"You don't have to—" Rosa started, but Sofia squeezed her hand.
"You've helped me before," she said simply. "Let me do the same."
Rosa choked back tears, gripping Sofia's hand tightly. Elena watched, her heart aching.
Tomorrow was uncertain, but tonight, they weren’t alone.
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