Inside the jet, the world felt quieter, the chaos and fear outside held at bay by this cocoon of metal and leather. My father settled across from me, his eyes searching mine, and for the first time, I didn’t see disappointment there. Just understanding, and an unspoken promise that we would face whatever came next together.

As the plane taxied and lifted off, I closed my eyes, my hand resting on the swell of my belly. For the first time in weeks, I felt a flicker of hope. My father was right—ordinary might be an illusion, but safety, real safety, was something we could reach for. And with him by my side, I believed we might just make it.