|NEXT MORNING|

BRIANNA

I woke up at 4 a.m. the next morning, an early hour that felt wrong but somehow necessary. The night had been long and restless, plagued by a swirling storm of anxiety. The excitement of the trip was building, but so were the nerves. I could barely sleep, my mind racing through a thousand possibilities—about the flight, about being away from home, about how everything would unfold.

Reluctantly, I got up from bed, rubbed my tired eyes, and took a shower, hoping the ...