The morning of the semi-final arrived with a quiet intensity.
The Spanish squad went through their usual matchday routine, but everything felt heavier.
There was no escaping it now. France stood between them and the final.
Izan woke early, but he hadn't slept much. Olivia had stayed on the line with him for a while, talking about nothing and everything, but eventually, the exhaustion won.
He had drifted off, phone still in hand, only to wake up a few hours later with the weight of the day pressing down on him.
He exhaled, pushing himself up from bed and reaching for his phone, only to see a missed call.
Komi.
Izan frowned slightly, but before he could call her back, his phone buzzed again. He swiped to answer.
"Hey, Mom," he murmured, his voice still rough from sleep.
"Finally," Komi huffed. "I've been calling."
"Yeah, sorry. I was—" He ran a hand through his hair. "—sleeping."
Komi sighed on the other end. "I figured. I just wanted to check on you."
