Following the crowd, she walked out of the airport.
It was morning in Cakago, a clear sunrise with dew still glistening on the leaves, refracting colorful light under the sun.
The area near the airport was bustling with people ebbing and flowing like the tide.
Wrapped in a scarf, Jasmine Yale pulled her suitcase with one hand, the other tucked in her coat pocket.
So cold, even colder than back home.
On her trip back to the country, she hadn't even stepped out of the Cheney Residence, confined at home for three days.
Now returning to Cakago, she felt like a bird out of a cage, finally returning to nature.
But for some reason, her emotions were especially complex at the moment.
An indescribable feeling spread through her body, knocking on her heart beat by beat.
She squinted and looked up at the sun, somewhat dazzling, but more so comforting.
She stood at the curb, ready to go back to her own little apartment.
Three days had felt like a century.
