Vincent

It was a typical morning in the Martinez house. Vincent and his brother Eli were getting ready for school while their father, Ricardo, rambled on behind a newspaper. “Boys, be home right after school. No wandering. I’ve got a business dinner tonight,” he said, glancing at them. Their mother, Christina, chimed in, eyes on Vincent. “And behave. There will be guests.” Vincent simply nodded, twisting the door knob. “Yeah, yeah. See you later,” he muttered, heading out. As promised, the boys came home and left with the family for the dinner. Ricardo had rented a hall for his many employees. Vincent sat beside Eli, dressed in his usual black slacks, half-buttoned shirt, and worn gold cross. Eli, in full suit and tie, looked his opposite.