Legal Disclaimer
This light novel is inspired by the beautiful landscapes and cultures of Bolivia and South Korea. However, the characters, events, and situations portrayed are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is purely coincidental. This content does not intend to represent or reflect the historical, social, or cultural reality of either country. The author disclaims any legal liability arising from the interpretation of these elements.
Content Warning: This chapter contains sensitive and potentially disturbing themes. Reader discretion is advised.
Chapter 5 – A News Story, a Headline in the Newspaper
The service cart rolled down the aisle of economy class.
A flight attendant offered drinks, snacks… and wrinkled copies of a Bolivian newspaper.
Zayra, listening to music with a distant gaze, lowered one of her earbuds just as the woman handed her a copy.
— "Would you like a newspaper, miss?"
She blinked slowly, her eyes never fully meeting the attendant's, as if she hadn't completely landed yet, took it absentmindedly, her fingers brushing against the edge of the paper.
Her curiosity didn't come from patriotism—it was instinct. Survival, maybe.
She just wanted to see how Bolivia was doing… or at least, how the press was portraying it.
***
She unfolded the newspaper slowly.
On the front page, among headlines about inflation, conflicts over oil fields in Santa Cruz and Cochabamba, one stabbed her like a knife.
She glanced at it once… then again.
< Ivor Amaro confirms presidential candidacy. "Bolivia needs a new awakening," says the former president.>
Zayra froze, her shoulders tensing, her grip tightening on the edge of the newspaper.
At the start of the trip, her nerves had been over other matters, but now she remembered: the monsters were waiting, dressed in suits and ties.
Her breathing grew shallow, as if the air had suddenly become too heavy.
And these words surfaced in her mind:
"Coming home sounds beautiful… until you realize the drug traffickers are waiting for you."
The image was recent: Ivor smiling in his typical messianic pose, arms spread like some kind of redeemer.
Her grip on the newspaper tightened.
She could almost hear the applause echoing behind that photo.
"That bastard…"
How was it possible? That man had sunk the country, looted its resources to enrich private companies, and betrayed his people. And now he had the audacity to run again.
Fury pulsed in her temples as her chest tightened with each word.
***
The pressure in her chest intensified. Flashes came: flickering hallway lights, her friend's trembling hand, red eyes after endless tears, that broken voice echoing in Zayra's head
— "No one believed me."
"Not this time," she thought.
Her brow furrowed, her knuckles turned white as she tapped the newspaper lightly.
She shut the paper with a sharp snap, pressed her lips together, and straightened her back, as if making a silent vow not to yield this time.
That despicable man… once again trying to get away with it.
Ahead of her lay Bolivia, the arranged marriage, and the family she had to face.
This time, with no escape, Zayra would go after Ivor Amaro… and justice would be relentless.