I didn’t expect the heat to slam into me like that.
The moment I stepped off the bus, it wrapped around me—thick, humid, and heavy. The kind of heat that stuck to your skin, made your clothes cling to your back, and stole the air from your lungs. It wasn’t like the dry summers I was used to. No, this was the Deep South kind, stifling and suffocating, as if the sun itself had settled on my shoulders.
Dust kicked up with each step as I trudged the short walk toward Uncle Matthew’s farmhouse. The five-minute stroll felt like a marathon with the sun beating down, my bag dragging at my shoulder. When the house finally came into view, a wave of nostalgia hit me—memories of running barefoot through the fields, of hiding in the barn loft, of simpler times.
I smiled despite the sweat trickling d
