The airport was bustling with its usual chaos, a whirl of sound and movement that should have been overwhelming. But all I felt was numbness, my mind singularly focused on Sophie. For the first time, my fear of flying was overshadowed by something more pressing—a mother’s instinct to protect her child, no matter the cost.
The flight was a blur. I don’t remember details, just the sensation of being suspended in the air, hurtling through the sky. My heart pounded with every dip and turn, but I kept my eyes shut, counting down the minutes until I could hold my daughter.
When the plane touched down, I sprang into action. My phone was in hand before I’d even left my seat, calling a cab, confirming the hotel address. I was a woman possessed, driven by urgency and rage.
