The flight into Miami felt strange. The city spread beneath them, glittering in the night like a restless beast. For Leah, it wasn’t just a skyline — it was a memory. Every street, every corner held echoes of the battles she had fought, of the scars she had carried.

When they landed, there was no parade, no flashing lights, no crowd waiting. Just the warm, heavy air of a city that remembered but chose not to speak.

Leah squeezed Jason’s hand as they drove through the streets.

Leah (softly): “It feels different this time.”

Jason glanced at her, his profile lit by passing streetlights.

Jason: “Different how?”

Leah: “It doesn’t...