Chapter 32: Leilani's POV The heavy, humid air of Manila hit me the moment I stepped out of the pressurized cabin. It was a thick, familiar embrace—scented with jet fuel and the distant salt of the bay. It was the smell of a life I had buried three years ago, a scent that made my skin prickle with a mixture of nostalgia and pure, unadulterated dread. Beside me, Zain gripped my hand tight, his small fingers digging into my palm. He was wide-eyed, blinking against the harsh tropical sun streaming through the terminal windows. At three years old, his world had been defined by the cool, organized streets of London. This chaotic heat was a sensory assault he wasn't prepared for. "We’re almost there, baby," I whispered, smoothing back a stray lock of his dark hair. Even under his little baseball cap, the resemblance was enough to make my heart skip a jagged beat. Every day, his face became a clearer map of the man I was trying to forget. Navigating the airport felt like walking
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