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Lita's heart raced as the plane came to a stop, her leg bouncing nervously under her seat. She felt a swell of impatience building as she watched passengers stand one by one, reaching for their luggage in the overhead compartments. She had made the mistake of letting others go first, and now all she wanted was to push past them, to sprint down the aisle, and feel the solid ground of the airport beneath her feet. Her family was waiting on the other side, and the thought of their faces—her father's warm smile, her brother's excitement—was nearly unbearable.

When the line finally began to move, Lita shot up from her seat, her hands trembling slightly as she wrestled her bag free. Her breath quickened with anticipation. The weight of the small suitcase in her hand anchored her to the moment, but her mind was already racing ahead. She mumbled a quick "thank you" to the flight attendants, their friendly smiles blurring as she hurried out of the plane.

The narrow boarding bridge felt suffocating, the walls pressing in as she weaved around slower passengers. The damp smell of rain lingered in the air, a subtle reminder of Forks' misty mornings. Lita's pace quickened, her shoes tapping briskly against the floor as she walked through the long, windowed corridors of the airport, her eyes scanning the signs but not really seeing them. All she could think about was the moment she would see them—her father, her brother—after what had felt like an eternity apart.

As she stepped out into the bustling main terminal, the wide-open space greeted her with the chaotic hum of travelers and announcements echoing overhead. She paused for a moment, her eyes sweeping across the sea of faces, searching. And then, she saw him.

Her father stood just a few yards away, alone, his figure unmistakable even in the crowd. He spotted her at the same moment, his face breaking into a wide smile that was so familiar it brought tears to her eyes. Without thinking, Lita dropped her bag, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud, and rushed toward him.

"Dad!" she cried, her voice cracking as she threw herself into his arms.

His embrace was immediate and strong, wrapping around her as though he'd never let go again. The scent of his aftershave filled her senses, comforting and familiar, grounding her in the present moment. His voice was soft but full of emotion as he whispered, "I've missed you so much, honey."

Lita clung to him, her face pressed tightly into his shoulder. Tears she hadn't realized she was holding back spilled over, and she felt her breath hitch as she spoke, "I've missed you, Dad. Every single day." Her voice broke, and she sobbed softly into his coat, her words muffled but heartfelt.

They stood like that for a while, her father holding her close, letting her cry, his hand gently stroking her back. Finally, he pulled back just enough to cup her face, brushing a tear from her cheek with his thumb. His eyes shone with unshed tears of his own, though he smiled through them. "Mija," he murmured softly, "I'll never let you leave for that long again."

Lita let out a breathy laugh through her tears, wiping at her eyes. "You don't know how much I needed to hear that," she said, her voice still shaky but filled with warmth.

Her father's hand moved to her arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We've all missed you. Especially your brother."

Lita's heart gave a small pang at the mention of Mateo. "Where is he? Is he okay?" she asked, her brow furrowing with concern.

Her father's smile wavered, and he sighed softly. "He's still recovering. He can't even walk right now, but trust me, if he could—even if the hospital wouldn't let him—he'd be here. That boy talks about you every single day. He's missed you so much."

Lita's chest tightened, and she swallowed the lump forming in her throat. The thought of Mateo in the hospital still stung, but knowing he was excited to see her filled her with a bittersweet kind of hope. "I've missed him, too. So much. I can't wait to see him and tell him everything. I can't believe he's going to be okay soon."

Her father chuckled softly, his hand rubbing her shoulder. "He's excited too. He's been counting down the days until you got back. But come on, let's not keep him waiting any longer."

Lita nodded, her heart swelling with anticipation. She grabbed her fallen bag and began walking with her father toward the exit, the reality of being home settling in around her. The rain outside had picked up again, tapping softly against the airport windows as they moved through the terminal. For the first time in months, the sound didn't feel heavy or oppressive. It felt... like home.

As they stepped out into the cool, damp air, Lita felt a sense of peace wash over her. The rain wasn't Forks' rain—it was the rain she'd grown up with, the kind she knew deep in her bones. And standing beside her father, knowing her brother was just a short drive away, made everything feel right again.

Lita sat in the passenger seat of her father's car, listening to the rhythmic sound of the rain tapping against the windows. It mingled with the low hum of the engine, creating a sense of quiet that felt almost too peaceful. Outside, the city was a blur of wet streets and misty sidewalks, the rain softening the sharp glow of streetlights. Usually, the constant drizzle felt comforting, but tonight it was heavier—closer. As if the world, like her, was holding its breath.

Her father's hands were steady on the wheel, his gaze fixed on the road. After a few minutes of silence, he glanced over at her. "You okay, honey?"

Lita pulled her gaze from the rain-soaked window and met his eyes. She offered a small smile, though it felt thin. "Yeah. Just thinking about Mateo... It's only been a few days since the surgery, but it feels longer. How's he really doing?"

Her father's face softened, and he exhaled a quiet sigh, focusing back on the road. "He's doing better than expected. The doctors are happy with the progress—said the heart's strong. He's still tired, but... he's hanging in there." His voice, though reassuring, carried a hint of something unspoken. A weariness.

Lita nodded, though the tight feeling in her chest didn't ease. The thought of Mateo, small and fragile in his hospital bed, lingered in her mind. She had missed being there for him, missed the chance to comfort him through something so overwhelming.

"Was he scared?" she asked softly, her fingers brushing absent-mindedly against the seam of the car seat.

Her father's smile was brief, touched with sadness. "Of course. We all were. But he was brave—kept asking about you. Wanted to see you before they took him in for surgery. He's always thinking about his big sister."

Lita swallowed hard, her throat tightening. The image of Mateo, waiting for her, asking for her, was almost too much to bear. She turned her face toward the window again, blinking back the tears threatening to spill.

"I should've been there," she whispered.

Her father's hand reached over and rested on hers, a quiet reassurance. "You couldn't have known, Lita. And you're here now—that's what matters most. Mateo's been asking for you every day since the surgery."

She nodded again, trying to focus on the sound of the rain to quiet the gnawing worry. In a few minutes, she would see Mateo, touch his hand, and know that everything was okay. That he was okay.

The hospital came into view, its tall, sterile building glowing faintly in the wet night. Lita's stomach tightened with nerves as her father pulled into the parking lot and cut the engine. For a moment, they both sat in silence, watching the rain cascade down the windshield.

"He's going to be so happy to see you," her father said softly, breaking the quiet.

Lita wiped away a tear that had slipped down her cheek. "I've missed him."

Her father nodded, his expression reflecting her own. They stepped out of the car, pulling their jackets tight against the cold drizzle, and walked toward the hospital entrance. The automatic doors slid open, letting the sterile scent of disinfectant fill Lita's senses. The harsh, artificial light bounced off the spotless white walls, a stark contrast to the soft dimness of the rainy night outside.

The walk through the hallways felt slower than she expected. Each step carried the weight of anticipation, her heart pounding harder with every turn. The rhythmic beep of heart monitors and the soft hum of machinery filled the air, a constant reminder of the fragility inside these walls.

When they finally reached Mateo's room, her father gave her a gentle nod and opened the door.

The room greeted her with a sterile chill. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic, and the low mechanical hum of the machines provided a steady backdrop to the soft ticking of the heart monitor. The fluorescent lights cast a pale glow over the small, frail figure lying in the hospital bed. Mateo, small and pale beneath the hospital blankets, looked even smaller against the vast white of the room.

His eyes fluttered open as the door creaked, and when they landed on Lita, his face lit up with a weak but unmistakable smile.

"Lita..." His voice was barely above a whisper, but it held all the joy in the world.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she crossed the room in a few quick steps, kneeling by his bedside and gently taking his hand. His skin was cool to the touch, and his pulse was faint but steady. The beeping of the monitor echoed in the background, a small but constant reassurance.

"I'm here, buddy," Lita whispered, her voice cracking. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, her heart swelling with both relief and sadness. "I'm here."

Mateo's smile softened, and though his eyelids drooped with exhaustion, he held onto her hand with as much strength as he could muster. "I missed you."

Lita blinked back the tears that threatened to spill, nodding quickly. "I missed you too. More than you can imagine."

They sat together in quiet relief, the soft beeping of the machines and the hum of the room a background to the moment that felt both fragile and infinite.

For now, he was here. And that was enough.