The bus reverse parked with a heavy sound, like it was tired too. Ziana pressed her forehead against the window and stared outside, watching the evening lights blur in the evening heat. Her chest felt tight, like someone had tied a knot inside her lungs and refused to loosen it.
Home.
It sounded simple when she said it to people.
"Yeah, I'm going back home."
But nobody told her coming back would feel like stepping into an old version of yourself… and realizing you don't fit in it anymore.
She adjusted the hood of her sweater and pulled her suitcase behind her as she walked through arrivals. The air smelled like dust, perfume, sweat, and fried food. It was chaotic, loud, and familiar in a way that made her heart ache.
People were laughing loudly. Kids were running around. Someone was shouting into a phone like the whole world needed to hear their business.
Ziana smiled a little.
Some things never changed.
Her phone buzzed, "MAMA" flashed on the screen.
Ziana picked up immediately.
"Hello?"
"Ziana!" her mother's voice came through the speaker, thick with emotion. "My daughter… my baby. You reached?"
Ziana's throat tightened.
"Yes mama. I'm here."
"Thank God," her mother sighed. "We are coming. Just wait. Don't move like a lost goat there."
Ziana laughed softly. "Mama I'm not lost."
"You always used to get lost as a child," her mother replied like she was stating facts. "Just stand. We are coming."
The call ended before Ziana could even argue.
She stood near the entrance, watching people reunite. Hugs. Tears. Smiles. Some were dramatic like movie scenes.
And Ziana? She just stood there quietly, gripping the handle of her suitcase, feeling like a stranger in her own country.
She wasn't the same girl who had left.
Back then, she had been hungry for a new life. A new start. A different air to breathe. She had wanted to study, work, build something for herself.
And she did.
She worked in hospitals that were clean and quiet, where everything ran like a system. She learned how to be fast with her hands, sharp with her mind. She became a surgical tech with confidence.
But even with all that… she still felt incomplete.
Something always pulled at her.
Like home was a magnet.
Now she was back.
Her eyes scanned the crowd until she saw her mother and little sister running toward her.
Mama Gee didn't even slow down.
She grabbed Ziana in a tight hug, squeezing her like she wanted to fuse her back into the family permanently.
"My God," her mother whispered, holding her face. "You've become fat. You were eating what? Air?"
"Mama, I was eating good," Ziana protested.
Her sister laughed. "She was eating books."
Ziana rolled her eyes. "You're too loud."
Her mother kissed her forehead. "You're home now. We'll make you thin again."
Ziana smiled. For real this time.
They drove home in a dusty car that smelled like old leather and eucalyptus. The streets looked both familiar and strange. Some buildings were new. Some shops had changed. But the sun still sat heavy in the sky like it owned the land.
As they passed the market, Ziana watched women selling vegetables, men shouting prices, boda bodas weaving through traffic like they had nine lives.
She shook her head.
"How do people survive this traffic?" she muttered.
Her sister laughed again. "Welcome back, madam abroad."
She didn't reply. She just leaned back and stared out the window.
Her mind drifted.
She hadn't told anyone yet… but she was nervous.
Not about home.
Not about family.
About work.
Because coming back home wasn't just about seeing her people.
It was about returning to the one place she had once loved and feared at the same time.
Avalon Teaching Hospital.
She used to work there before she left. She remembered the smell of antiseptic, the constant noise, the rush of emergencies, the pressure.
Avalon was not a soft hospital.
Avalon was where doctors were made… and where weak people got eaten alive.
Ziana's mother glanced at her. "So… when are you going to start working again?"
Ziana blinked. "Soon."
"How soon?"
"Maybe next week," Ziana said, forcing confidence into her voice. "I just need to rest first."
Her mother nodded, but her eyes were sharp. "Rest is fine. But don't rest too much. People will start saying you came back to just sit and be pretty."
Ziana scoffed. "Let them talk."
But deep inside, her stomach twisted.
Because she knew she couldn't hide forever.
She had to go back.
She had to prove herself again.
That night, after dinner, Ziana sat on her bed and stared at the ceiling. The house was quiet except for distant voices outside and the occasional barking of dogs.
She held her phone in her hand, scrolling through old photos.
Hospital selfies. Scrub suits. OR lights. A picture of her old ID badge.
Her thumb stopped.
Avalon Teaching Hospital.
She sighed.
"God… I'm really about to do this again."
Her eyes closed slowly.
____________
ONE WEEK LATER
Ziana stood outside the gates of Avalon Teaching Hospital with a small bag on her shoulder.
The hospital looked the same.
Big. Busy. Loud. Like it never slept.
Ambulances came in and out like it was a marketplace. Nurses walked fast. Medical students stood in groups, looking confused and stressed.
Ziana inhaled deeply.
The smell of hospital air hit her instantly—bleach, sweat, and something metallic.
Her heart beat harder.
She adjusted her scrubs, tied her hair into a neat bun, and walked in.
"Alright," she whispered to herself. "Let's do this."