The City Still Feels the Same

Atheria still felt the same: the cool air, the clean floors, and a light tension that always seemed to hang around, as if the city was waiting for something to happen. As Alina stepped into the busy airport, the familiar sounds of talking and rolling bags wrapped around her like a half-forgotten song. Every step felt careful, like the ground itself held the weight of the life she had left.

She tightened her grip on her phone. The message to Regina had already been sent: “Landed safely. Waiting for Adam. How are the kids?”

Moments later, the screen lit up. “All good here,” Regina replied. “Nathaniel is already asking what you’ll say at the conference. Charlotte’s quieter than usual, but she’s fine. Don’t worry, just focus on what you have to do.”

Alina let out a small breath. That was Nathaniel, smart as always, curious about everything, especially her work. Sometimes his mind worked much faster than his age, and she knew it wouldn't be long before he figured out more than she was ready to tell.

She let out a small breath, enough to ease the tight feeling in her chest. “Thank you. Tell them I miss them already,” she typed back and slipped the phone into her bag.

The airport looked almost unchanged by time. Yet everything felt different. Maybe it was her. Maybe it was the heavy feeling she carried now, or the important reason that brought her back.

She adjusted her sunglasses. They hid her eyes and gave her a moment to breathe. Behind them, her eyes searched the crowd for a face she knew.

Adam saw her before she even reached the curb. He hadn't changed much since he last visited her in Marlowe. As she walked closer, his eyes watched her, noticing the same quiet strength he had always admired.

"Alina," Adam greeted, his voice warm but a little worried.

She managed a small smile. "Adam. I never thought I'd come back to Atheria."

"I know." His answer was gentle, understanding. "Marlowe has been a whole different world for you. But you're here now. That must mean something."

Her eyes drifted to the endless motion of travelers around them. "I didn't want to return," she said honestly. "But the work... it has to be seen. It's bigger than me now."

Adam nodded, seeing the tension in her shoulders. "You've always found a way to push through fear. But this feels heavier, doesn't it?"

“It does,” she said quietly. “Coming back feels like stepping into a life I left behind. I’m not sure I’m ready. But what choice do I have? The world needs what we’ve built.”

His gaze held hers. “You’re doing the right thing, Alina. Atheria needs what you’ve created.”

She let out a slow breath. “I just hope that’s true.”

They walked side by side, talking easily as they headed toward the parking lot. Alina shared a few small updates from Marlowe, and she found herself smiling more than she expected. Outside, the city stretched beyond the glass doors tall buildings, busy streets, a rhythm she remembered but with Adam beside her, it felt lighter somehow.

"How are the kids?" Adam asked as they reached the car.

“They’re good,” she said softly, her voice lifting at the thought of them. “Nathaniel’s curious, asking about the conference, what I’ll show. Charlotte… she’s not thrilled about me being away. But they’ll be okay.”

Adam’s eyes searched hers, a flicker of doubt there. “Are you sure? Leaving them is a big step.”

“I don’t have a choice,” Alina said quietly, fingers brushing the strap of her bag. “This isn’t just another project. It’s bigger than me, bigger than anything I’ve done before.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “This… could change everything.”

Adam didn’t argue. He nodded, unlocking the car with a quiet click. He understood what was at stake not just medicine’s future, but the past Atheria was sure to stir up for her again.

A few steps away, near the airport entrance, a man paused mid-stride. Julian, Sebastian’s childhood friend, had just returned from a business trip abroad. He noticed Adam first, the familiar figure walking through the crowd. Then his eyes moved to the woman beside him.

For a moment, the airport noise seemed to stop. His breath caught.

It was her.

At least, it looked like her. Alina?

The woman wore sunglasses. Her movements were steady, confident, so different from the Alina he remembered, the one who had been quiet, reserved, and almost unseen.

Julian hesitated, unsure if he was seeing things or if it was real. Years had passed. She had vanished completely, leaving only questions. Now she was here, walking with Adam as if she had never left.

Julian slid a hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Without thinking, he dialed.

“Sebastian,” he said as soon as the call connected, his voice low and tense. “I just saw your ex-wife… Alina.”

There was a pause, then a sharp intake of breath. “Alina? Where? When?”

“Here at the airport,” Julian said, eyes still scanning the crowd. “She looks different, stronger, more sure of herself. But it’s her.”

"Are you certain?" Sebastian's voice was tight with tension.

“At first, I wasn’t. I almost missed her. But now I’m sure. Where has she been all this time?”

Sebastian let out a slow breath. "I've been trying to find her for years, just rumors, nothing real. It was like she disappeared. But if Adam's picking her up, he must know more than he says."

Julian glanced back at the empty space where she had been. "Then she's back. And if she's back in Atheria... something big is going to happen."

When the call ended, Sebastian stood still for a moment, the weight of her name heavy in his mind. Alina was back. And with her return, the past he thought was buried would no longer stay silent.

Alina got into the car beside Adam, feeling the engine hum. The city passed by, familiar but different.

Adam looked at her. “You’ll handle this,” he said softly.

“I have to,” she said.

The car left the airport. Atheria lay ahead, tall buildings, busy streets, the usual tension but also a sense of purpose she hadn’t felt in years. Her heart beat steady. She had returned not to relive the past, but to shape the future. This time, she would not be invisible.