Chapter 38 – What Home Teaches
The bus pulled into the village station just after noon. The road was bumpy, the windows fogged from the early summer humidity. Jota stepped down, duffel bag over his shoulder, and let the air hit him—warm, familiar, slow.
Nothing had changed.
And everything had.
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Miguel was waiting, standing tall and awkward in a shirt that had seen too many wash cycles. He didn't wave. He simply nodded, the way brothers do when they don't know how to say I missed you out loud.
Jota nodded back.
They walked home without a word.
Goats bleated in the distance. The dirt path felt narrower. The trees lower. But the moment they crossed into the yard, Ana burst through the front door.
She launched herself at Jota, arms tight around his waist, voice squealing, "I told you! I told everyone you'd come back!"
Jota laughed, staggered from the impact. "You win."
"You smell like a bus," she added.
"That's because I took one."
"Did you bring me stickers?"
