I knew the journey would be hard. People had warned me. Long roads, waiting, borders, judging eyes. But no one told me that I would return broken in a way that could never be repaired.
The Day Everything Stopped
She began to look tired during the journey. Nothing alarming at first. Children get sick. They sleep, wake up, cry a little. I held her close and whispered that everything would be fine. I promised her a room, a bed, a future.
Then her breathing changed. Too slow. Too quiet. I called for help. I begged. I shouted in a language some people did not understand and others did not want to understand.
