The Silent Homecoming
It's 5 am and I'm wide awake. Could be from the jet lag from Saturday's flight, or just the unanswered questions building up in my head. Probably both. Mavet and I only go outside to walk Callie, and the streets of Baltimore are practically empty. Apart from the occasional passerby who bows their head and puts space between you both, it's a ghost town. With a slight skid and a thud, the plane landed at Dulles airport, and I expected to feel something: Relief to be on home soil, sadness to be pulled from site, anxiety to get through customs and grab my luggage, anger that there was no time to catch my breath. I thought I would feel a wave of happiness when my mom bounced out of the car to embrace me after not seeing each other for 15 months. I thought I would be shocked to see Mavet and Patrick-the friends who are letting me quarantine with them-at the realization of how much they've changed. I thought I would relish in that first bite of frenc