Bianca stood still… arms folded tightly across her chest as though she was holding herself together by force.
Morning sunlight hit her skin harshly… not warm, but exposing.
Her hair sat in a messy bun… not the stylish kind she used to post online, but the tired knot of a woman who had cried herself into silence.
Strands escaped and brushed her cheeks… soft, chaotic, unpolished.
She wore her short subagati striped bodycon dress… a dress that once made her feel admired.
Today it made her feel exposed.
The fabric struggled to stretch over her baby bump… pushing the hem higher than she wanted.
Her belly announced her before her mouth even opened.
Bianca rested her hand on her bump for a moment… then quickly dropped it, refusing to show vulnerability in public.
Multiple suitcases stood
