88. Calm before storm

Adrian sat quietly in his airplane seat, staring out the small oval window at the world below. The plane had just ascended, and the sight of the clouds, golden and soft against the sunlight, should have felt magical. Instead, Adrian felt a weight in his chest, a tightness he couldn't shake. He had never felt so reluctant to leave before—never so tied to a place, a home, and someone he loved.

He pressed his forehead against the cool glass, the hum of the plane's engines a dull backdrop to his swirling thoughts. When Wuner Hudel had sent him abroad years ago, he remembered the excitement he'd felt then. It wasn't just the thrill of going to a new country; it was the freedom, the chance to leave behind the suffocating confines of a family that he didn't feel connected to. Back then, he had practically counted the days until he left.