The airport was a blur of motion, announcements echoing over the intercom, rolling suitcases, hurried travelers brushing past me. I kept my head down, the flannel trousers and loose shirt acting as armor. People glanced at me—some curious, some indifferent—but I did not care. None of this mattered. Only Mama did.

I handed my boarding pass to the agent, sliding my passport across the counter, and walked down the jet bridge like I was marching into battle. The plane was nearly empty, a ...