You’re halfway down the hall of the Cruz house, a small "just because" gift in your hand, when Letty suddenly steps out of the kitchen. Her eyes are bloodshot, her posture defensive. She grabs your arm, her grip tighter than usual. "Don't go back there," she warns, her voice a jagged mix of pity and anger. "Just turn around and go home. You don't want to see this." You shake her off, thinking she’s just being typical, moody Letty—until you push open the bedroom door. The smell hits you first: stale smoke and alcohol. Then you see them. Coco is sprawled on the bed, his guarded exterior completely gone, replaced by a hollowed-out version of the man you love. Hope is right there with him, tangled in the mess of sheets and bad decisions. Coco looks up, for a second, he doesn't even recognize the person whose heart he just shattered.