This land was given by God, a home where rivers run,
We are one, and someday we will meet again on the promised hill.

It was a song the children used to sing every night. Even the adults would hum along softly when memories of home surfaced. Zara had repeated the words to herself countless times.

She woke that morning with the song still echoing in her mind.

Dawn settled cold over the camp. The tents whispered with the wind, restless and thin. Zara, her face drawn from a sleepless night, held her sibling's hand tightly. Tear marks still clung to the corners of her eyes.

Outside their tent stood Pastor Lewis, the missionary who had spent years teaching children and handing out medicine to the sick. A few days earlier, he had spoken quietly to her father.

"A path has opened across the sea," he had said. "It won't be easy. But for the children, it could mean hope."

Her father stepped forward with a single small bag. Her mother walked close beside him, eyes constantly scanning their surroundings. Behind them, rows of tents stretched into the dark, shadows of people who hadn't slept swaying gently in the early morning air.

For a moment, Zara thought she saw Amani's face among them.

Amani... will you understand?

Her heart pounded with fear, but Zara tightened her grip on her sibling's hand.

I'm not scared. I won't cry. I'm the big sister.

When they reached the airport, Zara felt her breath catch. The polished floors gleamed. Voices in unfamiliar languages buzzed all around them. Armed soldiers watched with sharp, unreadable eyes. It was nothing like the muddy paths of the camp.

Standing before the airplane, Zara stopped.

The massive wings loomed overhead, as if they could swallow the sky itself. The song surfaced again in her chest—We will meet again on the promised hill.

Her throat burned. Tears rose fast.

But she wiped them away roughly with the back of her hand and pulled her sibling close.

"It's okay," she said. "Dad is here. Mom is here. And we're together."

Her voice trembled, but her sibling nodded, comforted by the closeness.

The plane began to move.

As it sped down the runway, Zara wrapped her arms around her sibling and whispered the final line of the song inside her head.

This land was given by God. Someday, we will meet again.

Through the window, the tents grew smaller and smaller until they disappeared entirely. Somewhere down there, Amani was still standing. Zara knew it.

Guilt and grief surged like waves—but above them rose something stronger.

I have to survive.
So I can remember for both of us.
So our song, our promise, won't disappear.

As the plane lifted above the clouds, sunlight wrapped around the metal body like a quiet prayer.

Zara steadied her breath and stared out the window.

The path ahead was distant and frightening.

But at the same time, a new world was beginning.