* Jana *
The city was louder than the island had ever been. Bigger. Colder. Its streets throbbed with strangers and neon lights, with honking cars and rusted buses and voices speaking languages that some of them I didn't understand. There was no ocean breeze, no rustling palms, no memory of the path that led to Mama's garden or the old hill we used to climb.
Here, no one knew our names. And no one cared.
We arrived with nothing but a battered suitcase, soaked clothes, and shadows behind our eyes. The rain had finally stopped, but the weight of it clung to us, as if it had seeped into our skin. Geraldine led us through the terminal, head high, acting braver than she felt. Edward was quiet now, burning silently, always watching every face like someone might recognize us, like danger would
