Something in the air felt… off. Not wrong, exactly, but like the city itself had layers she couldn't see yet.
Adaeze gripped the handle of her suitcase so tightly her knuckles ached. The Heathrow terminal buzzed with a restless energy she couldn't place.
The air smelled faintly metallic, mixed with damp concrete and rain. Her ears caught fragments of foreign voices, and the rapid shuffle of feet echoed like a countdown. The chill wasn't just cold—it was as if a part of the air around her existed in a different plane.
She tugged her scarf closer, trying to ward off the chill—and the unease crawling along her spine.
Her mother's words returned unbidden: "Adaeze, always pray when you feel alone. God's light will find you—even in shadows you cannot see."
It wasn't just comfort. Something in her mother's words felt like a key to what she couldn't yet understand.
Adaeze murmured a prayer, but it sounded hollow in the noisy terminal. She paused near the luggage carousel, glancing over her shoulder. For a fleeting moment, a shadow flickered behind the rows of passengers, fast and fleeting. She blinked. Nothing. Not imagined. Something unseen bent the light around her.
Just nerves, she told herself, stepping forward toward the exit.