Sunrise paints the trees gold as I approach the boundary.
The light filters through the branches in slow, careful bands, like the forest itself is hesitant to touch me. Birds move quietly overhead. Leaves whisper, but even that feels restrained. I expected something more dramatic. A shift in the air. Guards posted at the line. Someone calling my name at the last second, telling me to wait, to think, to come back.
There is nothing.
Just the forest holding its breath.
It makes my chest tighten. Like I am the only one who understands what this moment costs.
My steps slow as the pack line comes into view. Not because I want them to. Because my body betrays me. Muscles locking. Instinct flaring sharp and insistent.
This is wrong, it tells me. You do not leave. You do not cross alone.
The
