As the bus rolled to a stop at his small town’s terminal, Tomás gathered his belongings, the backpack feeling heavier than its contents. The town was unchanged, familiar yet foreign after his years away. The streets were lined with the same weathered buildings, but the silence felt denser, as if the town itself held its breath.

He walked toward his home, each step bringing him closer to the life he had fought to protect. The once vibrant colors of the house had faded, and the garden, once full of life, now lay untended. Yet, it was the pigsty that drew his attention, the cries of his daughter echoing in his mind as he rushed to the back of the house.