She read "Tití Me Preguntó" and laughed for the first time in weeks. The chaotic energy of telling your aunt you have a hundred girlfriends reminded her to stop taking her own loneliness so seriously. It was okay to be messy.

Marco smiled.

Then, on a whim, she opened the album Un Verano Sin Ti —not to listen, because she couldn’t, but to read the tracklist like a poem.

Without the beat, the words became a different kind of medicine.