Thea's return itinerary landed three hours late after weather diverted her final connection. Our reintegration plan survived because nobody had scheduled a surprise party, public camera, group dinner, or romantic performance around one fragile arrival time. Delay changed transportation without turning her return toward a disappointment other people needed her to repair.
She wanted me at the airport and nobody else beneath her written preference. Nina worked her investigations shift, while Yuna finished national review before traveling home the following day.
I waited beside ordinary arrivals carrying water, food, plus no flowers capable of becoming customs trouble near Bellwether materials. Thea emerged behind two art cases wearing a gray travel coat and exhausted suspicion toward every wheel beneath her luggage.
"Do you want touch, luggage help, food, or silence before we leave this terminal?" I asked.
