Dra. Esmeeli Renaldi tightened her grip on the steering wheel as the silhouette of the city slowly emerged before her. A strange heaviness pulled at her chest. The last time she saw this view, she had been only twenty-six—trembling, pregnant, and completely alone.
Now, at thirty-two, she was respected in her profession and the mother of a five-year-old boy who had eyes he inherited from his father.
They were on the road together, heading home through the stillness of the night, guided only by the glow of streetlamps and passing cars.
As Esmeeli drove along roads that felt familiar yet strangely foreign, memories she thought long buried slowly rose to the surface. Lights passed by her window—street posts, building signs and fast-food chains still open past midnight. Every red light in traffic felt like time coming to a stop, pulling her back to the past.
A tiny voice pulled me back to reality.
The little boy stirred in the passenger seat, her head still leaning against the window. His eyelids fluttered open, and he blinked at the blurred lights outside.
"Mom… are we here yet? " he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.
"Almost there," I said with a gentle smile while my eyes still on the road.