By the time Dayo left the Airport, the sky above Seoul had already begun to dim.
The day had drained more out of him than he expected—not physically, but mentally. The weight of his family made Dayo feel a bit sad and tired.
He went straight home.
A shower came first, long and hot, washing away the stiffness from his shoulders. He changed into something comfortable, ate lightly, then sank into the couch, letting the silence settle. For the first time since the airport, he allowed himself to breathe.
Time moved quietly.
More than thirteen hours later—after crossing oceans, time zones, and exhaustion—his family finally landed in the United States.
Dayo was still awake waiting when the call came.
His phone vibrated beside him, the screen lighting up with his mother's name. He picked up almost immediately.
"Hello?"
Her voice came through tired but relieved. "We're home."
That single sentence loosened something in his chest.
"Thank God," Dayo said softly. "I was waiting."
