I let out a long sigh as I settled into my airpne seat, shoulders finally rexing now that I was strapped in. The cabin felt cramped but familiar, that recycled-air smell mixed with faint coffee and pstic.

  Unfortunately, a baby a few rows away had other pns.

  The crying was loud, sharp, relentless—enough to make half the section visibly tense. I pressed my lips together, irritation bubbling up fast. My head already throbbed from the early morning, and patience was in short supply.

  'Please... just stop,' I thought, staring straight ahead.

  Thankfully, before my frustration could spiral, a flight attendant made his way down the aisle, handing out headphones with an apologetic smile. I took them gratefully, murmuring a quiet thanks as I plugged them in.

  Instant relief.

  I queued up some dark ambient music—low, droning tones that wrapped around my thoughts instead of demanding attention. The kind of sound that made it easier to disappear into yourself for a while.

  I leaned my head back against the seat, eyes closing as the pne began to taxi. I'd been awake since five, running on adrenaline and nerves, and now that I was finally contained—finally moving forward—my body wasted no time giving in.

  The music hummed softly in my ears. The pne's vibration lulled me further.

  And as sleep pulled me under, the world faded into a low, distant echo, carrying me away from everything I'd left behind.

  -

  A soft ding chimed through the cabin, pulling me gently out of sleep. I blinked a few times, disoriented at first, then reached for my phone. Two hours had passed. I really needed that sleep.

  I stretched as much as I could in the cramped seat, rolling my shoulders and flexing my fingers until the stiffness eased. The music had stopped at some point, leaving only the low hum of the pne around me.

  I opened WhatsApp and sent my cousin a quick message, letting her know I'd be touching down soon.

  I smiled faintly to myself—thank God for this app. I'd always wondered why so many Latinos relied on it so heavily, but now I got it. It made distance feel smaller.

  Her reply came almost instantly. Not even a text—a video.

  I tapped it, and there they were, already in the car, ughing and talking over each other, telling me they were on their way to the airport. I stared at the screen, stunned.

  "Jesus Christ..." I muttered under my breath.

  They hadn't waited. They hadn't hesitated. They just... showed up.

  Something warm spread through my chest, unfamiliar and almost overwhelming. Being wanted like this—being expected—felt strange in the best way. Like I didn't have to earn it. Like I didn't have to perform or comply to deserve care.

  Elena had said she cared too. But looking back now, it was different.

  Her affection always came with conditions. With expectations. If I said no to sex—if I needed space or rest—she'd pull away, go cold, pretend I didn't exist until I broke and gave in. And I'd convinced myself that I was the problem. That I was being difficult. Selfish. Ungrateful.

  I swallowed hard, staring at the seat in front of me. That wasn't love.

  It was control.

  I leaned back, exhaling slowly as the pne continued its descent. Outside the window, the sky looked brighter now, the clouds thinning, nd coming into view.

  Down there, people were waiting for me. Not to use me. Not to own me. But just to take me home.

  The rest of the descent passed quietly. When the wheels finally touched the ground, there was a brief jolt followed by the familiar rumble of tires against the runway. The pilot's voice came over the speakers with the usual announcement, thanking us for flying.

  I half-expected cpping—but there was none. Nobody cared. People were already standing, grabbing bags, switching phones back on. Normal. Mundane.

  The pne rolled to a stop, and I slipped my purse over my shoulder, relieved I didn't have to fumble for it. Once the doors opened, we filed out slowly. It took a good ten minutes before I finally stepped off the pne and into the jet bridge.

  That's when it hit me.

  I was safe.

  Completely, utterly safe—from Elena, from her apartment, from the constant fear that had lived in my chest for so long. Nothing was chasing me here. No one knew where I was except the people who wanted me safe.

  I smiled, small but genuine, and took a deep breath.

  "This is so peak..." I murmured under my breath.

  I followed the flow of passengers down toward baggage cim. The walk felt unhurried, almost peaceful.

  Sunlight filtered in through rge windows, illuminating the terminal. Outside, the sky over Culiacán was clear and bright, the kind of afternoon that made everything feel lighter and happy.

  'Man, the news in the U.S. really makes this pce sound like hell,' I thought, gncing around. So far... this is nice.

  Signs appeared ahead—Equipaje / Baggage Cim—clearly beled in both Spanish and English. I felt a quiet surge of relief. I was terrible at Spanish, so having both nguages there made everything feel more comfortable, less overwhelming.

  As I approached the rge conveyor belt area, my attention was drawn to a group walking towards the baggage cim.

  A tall, imposing woman with a white suit stood at the center, her posture confident, almost commanding. She was accompanied by two other women just as tall, both wearing dark vests with bold letters stitched onto them: C.D.S.

  I was a little confused, but I brushed it off. Probably some kind of local authority or private security. Airports were full of people like that anyway.

  My suitcase appeared almost immediately on the conveyor belt. I stepped forward and grabbed it, relieved to see it looked untouched. Everything intact. I set it down on the floor and pulled out my phone to text Julianna.

  That's when a shadow fell across me.

  I looked up—and there she was. The tall woman from before, standing right in front of me as she lifted her own luggage from the belt.

  Up close, she was... striking. Confident. Impossibly composed. She gnced down at me, clearly registering my presence, and then she winked.

  I swallowed. Yeah. She was absolutely stunning and incredibly intimidating.

  She turned and started walking away when I noticed something slip from one of her suitcases—a blue folder, nding ft on the floor.

  Without thinking, I grabbed it and hurried after her.

  "Se?ora, you dropped something," I said, holding it out.

  She stopped. Slowly turned.

  For a second, she just stared at the folder, then at me. Her mouth parted slightly, genuine surprise flickering across her face. Then she smiled—soft, almost amused.

  "Gracias, mijo..." she said warmly, taking it from my hands.

  I nodded, feeling oddly shy all of a sudden, and turned back toward my suitcase. After a few steps, curiosity got the better of me and I gnced over my shoulder.

  She hadn't left. She was still there, watching me. Smiling.

  I gave a small, polite smile back, then turned away for good—just in time to see two familiar figures approaching.

  "Miguel!!! Oh, come here you little—" my aunt Victoria excimed, pulling me into a crushing hug before I could even react. Julianna jumped in right after, wrapping her arms around both of us.

  I ughed, a little breathless. I hadn't realized how much I needed this.

  "I'm so happy you're here, Miguel," Julianna said as we finally pulled apart. "We're gonna have so much fun!"

  Before I could respond, my aunt rested a firm hand on my shoulder, her expression shifting—still loving, but serious now.

  "Ay, mijo... you should be careful," she said quietly. "That woman you were talking to—the one in the white suit. She's dangerous. You just got here, so please, be careful, okay?"

  I nodded, offering a reassuring smile.

  "Yeah... okay, tía."

  She didn't feel that dangerous. Intimidating, yeah sure. If anything, she'd seemed kind. Grateful, even.

  But something in my aunt's voice made me tuck that thought away. Maybe it was better to listen.

  My stomach suddenly growled, loud enough to draw ughter from all three of us.

  Julianna snorted, and my aunt shook her head, smiling. "I haven't eaten in so long," I said, ughing along with them. "Let's go home so I can cook something up!"

  They both smiled wider at that, and together we headed toward the exit, my suitcase rolling easily behind me.

  My chest felt impossibly light. No fear. No tension. No one watching my every move.

  Just family. Just freedom.

  I hadn't been this happy in a long while—it felt like everything was finally falling into pce for me.

  ——

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