PART 18: THE RECOVERY ROAD
PART 18: THE RECOVERY ROAD
The following morning, the center received its largest admission of the year.
A fleet of secure transport vehicles arrived from the southern border, carrying twelve young mothers who had escaped an illegal labor ring.
I stood at the entrance, coordinating the medical triage with our staff.
Every woman who stepped through those doors looked exactly the way I had looked on that freezing apartment balcony—terrified, exhausted, looking down at their bellies as if they were carrying a target.
I walked up to the first mother, a young girl no older than nineteen, her body shaking as she clutched a dirty blanket.
I reached out, gently placing my hands over hers, looking straight into her tear-filled eyes.
"You don't have to run anymore," I said, my voice carrying the absolute certainty of a survivor who had built a fortress from her scars. "Inside these walls, nobody can touch you. Welcome home."
May you like
The girl looked at me, her shallow breathing slowly stabilizing as she felt the warm, safe air of the facility.
Behind me, Alejandro was already organizing the nursery supplies, his face filled with the steady focus of a man who had found his true purpose.
