The sun was just beginning to rise when we landed at Andrews Air Force Base in Maryland.

The runway was wet with morning dew, the sky a pale blue.

The cargo ramp lowered, and the warm, humid air of the American East Coast rushed into the cabin.

An ambulance was waiting on the tarmac, along with two black federal SUVs.

I unstrapped myself and walked down the ramp.

The medical team was already preparing to offload my mother, who had been flown in on an earlier medical transport.

I walked over to the ambulance.

The back doors were open, and a paramedic was checking the IV lines.

My mother lay on the stretcher, her eyes closed.

She looked so small under the white hospital blankets, her skin pale and thin.

“Mother,” I said, stepping inside the vehicle.

She opened her eyes slowly, squinting against the bright morning light.

“Emily?” she whispered.

Her voice was weak, but her eyes were clear.

“Yes, Mother,” I said, taking her hand.

“You are safe now.”

“We are back in Virginia.”

“Where is Rachel?” she asked.