I traveled with my siblings, Valeria and Tomás, the youngest. The three of us left the airport with our suitcases in hand and smiles full of excitement. We were convinced that we would surprise Mom, that we would find her stronger, calmer, perhaps even finally enjoying a comfortable life thanks to everything we had sent her over the years.
We laughed as we hailed a taxi in the sweltering afternoon heat. The heat was intense, almost unbearable, as if the sky itself wanted to remind me how long I’d been gone. Three years without returning. Five years of sending money. Thousands of video calls. Thousands of dollars transferred on time. In my mind, that was enough to consider myself a good son.
My name is Adrian. I’m thirty-five years old and I’m an engineer in Dubai. I’m used to the desert, steel, exact schedules, and cold, hard numbers. But nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared me for what I was about to experience.
