The train station platform was quiet when Elias and I arrived to pick up Amina. The crisp autumn air carried the scent of fallen leaves and distant woodsmoke, and the sky was a clear, pale blue that made everything feel sharper and more real. We had spent the morning preparing the house — fresh flowers on the porch table, her favorite blanket folded on the swing, and a pot of soup simmering on the stove for dinner. It wasn’t about impressing her. It was about showing her we were still her family, even after everything.
When the train pulled in, Amina stepped off with her bag slung over one shoulder. She looked tired from the journey but there was a softness in her expression when she saw us waiting. She walked straight into Elias’s arms first, holding on a little longer than usual.
“Hi,
