Altha Vance found herself staring at a familiar photo on her phone longer than intended. It was an old shot—her and her mother, side by side, both grinning at something beyond the frame. Years had passed since it was taken, back when life felt lighter. She let out a slow breath and turned the screen off.
The airport buzzed around her—crowds, announcements, the constant shuffle of travelers. But Altha felt oddly detached. She had an important meeting to attend, one she couldn’t afford to miss. Still, as she stepped into the queue near the entrance, something tugged at her attention. At first, it was barely a sound.
Soft. Nearly buried under the rumble of luggage wheels and chatter. A voice. “I don’t have anywhere else to go… please.” Altha frowned and glanced toward a nearby pillar. She couldn’t see clearly from where she stood, but she could hear enough.
And the more she listened, the harder it became to turn away.
The voice returned, quieter this time. “I already told you… I have nothing left.” Altha hesitated, shifting her weight. She could stay in line. It wasn’t her problem. She had a schedule to keep. But something about the woman’s tone—not loud or theatrical, just… worn—felt genuine. Not someone begging for attention.
Someone who had run out of options. Altha looked ahead at the line, then back toward the pillar. She could still walk away. No one would blame her. But her legs moved before she could convince herself otherwise. She stepped out of the queue and headed toward the voice.
As she drew closer, she could see them. A young woman clutching a small child to her chest, trying to steady her own voice. Altha paused for a moment, then spoke.
