Tomás nodded, acknowledging the driver’s observation without uttering a word. His mind was consumed with Alma’s letter and what awaited him at home. The rhythmic hum of the bus engine was a mere backdrop to the thoughts racing through his mind. The war had taught him many things, but nothing prepared him for the gnawing anxiety of what he might find on his return.
After what felt like an eternity, the bus halted at the small, dusty town where Tomás grew up. He stepped off, his boots making a soft thud on the ground, and took a moment to breathe in the familiar, yet unsettling air. He adjusted his backpack and began the short walk toward his home, each step heavy with anticipation.
