I turned around, exasperated, only to see Nathan dropping to his knees right in front of me. His face was pale, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“Maya,” he pleaded, his voice trembling, “please come home with me. My mom doesn’t have much time left. She just wants to meet you before she…” He paused, his voice cracking. “Before she dies. Can’t the job wait?”

His dramatic gesture drew the attention of the students nearby. Their eyes darting between us like spectators at a play.

Nathan knew me too well—he was playing on my kind-hearted nature. I hesitated, caught between the weight of his plea and the silent judgment of the crowd.

I reached down to help him up, but he swatted my hand away, his expression growing more desperate.

“My mom really can’t hold on, Maya,” he said, his voice louder now, almost theatrical. “I promise, I’ll make sure you don’t miss your interview.”

I could feel the stares burning into my skin, the murmurs around us growing louder.

“Tsk, tsk. And she’s supposed to be a college student?” a woman whispered loudly. “How heartless! Her future mother-in-law just wants to meet her before she dies and she’s acting like this?”

“Exactly,” another chimed in. “Women shouldn’t even be so focused on careers. She should be staying home, raising kids, taking care of the family!”

The comments felt like tiny daggers, stabbing at my resolve. Why should I have to justify prioritizing my career over meeting Nathan’s parents? I wasn’t even married to him yet!

I forced myself to block out their words and looked directly at Nathan, still kneeling on the cold ground.

“Can’t your mom wait a few days?” I asked firmly. “I have an interview on Monday.”

Nathan hesitated, just for a moment and I caught the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

“Either I go after the interview, or I don’t go at all,” I said, standing my ground. “And if that’s a problem, Nathan, maybe we should just break up.”

My words hung in the air like a challenge and Nathan visibly panicked. He glanced around at the crowd, his face turning red with embarrassment.

“Fine,” he said at last, his voice subdued. “We’ll go after your interview.”

With that, he stood up and stepped away to make a phone call. The crowd, sensing the drama was over, slowly dispersed.

From a distance, I could see Nathan’s apologetic expression as he spoke into the phone, probably explaining the situation to his mother.

***

With the trip postponed, I focused on my interview preparations. The day before we were set to leave, I received the travel details Nathan had arranged. My heart sank when I saw the ticket information: a 56-hour train ride in a hard-seat coach.

I sighed. I’d endured worse journeys before. Growing up in poverty meant I’d learned how to make do, even if it meant sacrificing comfort.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to take a plane or a high-speed train; I just couldn’t justify spending money I didn’t have on something so trivial. Every penny I earned through scholarships and part-time jobs was carefully allocated and I wasn’t about to waste it now.

As the departure date drew closer, Nathan became unusually clingy. He followed me everywhere, barely letting me out of his sight.

“Nathan,” I joked one evening, “you’re acting like a prison guard. What’s with the constant surveillance?”

He laughed nervously, but his eyes betrayed something darker. “I just don’t want you to run off. If you do, I’ll lose my future wife,” he said with a forced smile.

I brushed off his comment, assuming he was just being dramatic. After all, where would I even go?

***

The interview day arrived and thankfully, everything went smoothly. I had the job! My first day would be in two weeks. Elated, I returned to the dorm that night, ready to pack for the trip.

The following morning, before the sun had risen, Nathan and I arrived at the train station. The platform was a chaotic sea of people. We boarded the crowded train, settling into our cramped seats for the long journey ahead.

This was the first time I had traveled so far from home and despite the exhaustion from the journey, I couldn’t help but feel a little excited. The train ride was long, but I spent most of the time staring out the window, captivated by the passing scenery.

A full day and night passed, yet I still felt energized, my eyes glued to the vast mountains and dense forests outside. The towering trees and rugged terrain reminded me of home, though these landscapes were even more remote and imposing.

I couldn’t help but think about how easy it would be to get lost here. The mountains all looked the same, the trees stretched endlessly toward the sky and the thick canopy blocked out the sun. Without a clear view of the horizon, you couldn’t tell north from south or east from west.

The only person I’d ever known who could navigate such terrain without getting lost was my grandfather. He had an uncanny ability to find his way out of any forest, no matter how unfamiliar. Aside from him, I’d never met anyone else who could do it.

***

After 56 grueling hours on the train, the journey still wasn’t over. We arrived in the city, but Nathan informed me we’d need to take a shuttle to a smaller county.

By noon, we were on the move again. I followed Nathan, lugging my bag as we boarded an old shuttle bus that rattled and groaned with every bump in the road. From there, the journey turned into a blur of transfers—another bus, then an ox cart and more modes of transportation than I could count.

Each leg of the trip chipped away at my patience. The further we went, the more I regretted agreeing to come. This place was just as remote as my own hometown, if not more so. If I had known it would be this bad, I wouldn’t have come at all.

Finally, as night fell, the ox cart stopped near a small, dimly lit village. Looking at the warm glow of the houses in the distance, I let out a sigh of relief.

“Is your house there?” I asked, pointing toward the village. “We’re finally here, right?”

Just as I was about to collapse onto a nearby rock, Nathan grabbed my arm and pulled me back up.

“Not yet,” he said with a sheepish grin. “We still have to climb over that mountain. But don’t worry, by morning, we’ll be home in time for breakfast. I’ve already told my mom to expect us.”

His words hit me like a brick. Climb a mountain? Overnight?

The exhaustion from the trip was catching up to me and the thought of trekking through the dark wilderness was almost too much to bear.

I glanced back at the village. “Why don’t we ask someone there to let us stay the night? It’s too late to be wandering around out here. It’s not safe.”

I expected Nathan to agree—it was the obvious choice—but to my surprise, he shook his head.

“No, we can’t do that,” he said firmly. “We don’t know these people. Why would they let us stay overnight? Besides, my grandpa is already on his way to meet us. If we don’t show up, he’ll worry.”

His reasoning didn’t sit well with me, especially since I hadn’t seen a single sign of life on the trail. How had he even contacted his grandpa? There was no cell service here—not for me, at least.

The uneasy feeling I’d been suppressing started to bubble up.

“Nathan,” I said cautiously, “you’re not… planning to sell me or something, are you? My phone doesn’t have any signal, so how did you contact your family?”

The words were out before I could stop myself and I immediately regretted them. It was the realization that I might have been too impulsive, tipping him off to my suspicions.

Nathan burst into laughter, his expression one of amused disbelief.

“Maya, what are you talking about?” he said, grinning. “Why would I do something like that? My phone doesn’t have a signal either. I spoke to my family before we left and told them when we’d arrive. That’s why I’ve been pushing to keep moving.”

He paused, his tone softening. “Really, can’t we just keep going? My grandpa’s old and if he’s out here waiting for us and something happens to him, I’d never forgive myself.”

His sincerity disarmed me, at least for the moment. His mention of his grandfather reminded me of my own—how he’d always insist on walking down the mountain to meet me, no matter how late I came home.

I sighed, relenting. “Fine,” I said. “But we’re taking it slow.”

Nathan nodded eagerly, leading the way as I followed behind.

The mountain trail was overgrown, as if no one had walked it in years. The flickering light of Nathan’s torch barely illuminated the path ahead and the dense weeds made it impossible to see where we were stepping.

The unease I’d felt earlier hadn’t completely left me. Something about this whole situation didn’t feel right.

But for now, I kept my thoughts to myself and focused on placing one foot in front of the other.

I had no choice but to follow Nathan as he led me further and further into the mountains.

The air was cold, but the exertion from the hike had me sweating. My legs ached and my breath came in shallow gasps, but I pressed on.

The scent of flowers filled the air—familiar and nostalgic. It was the unmistakable fragrance of mountain azaleas. Even though I couldn’t see them in the dim light, I recognized the smell instantly. My childhood home was surrounded by the same flowers.

“Nathan,” I called, trying to keep my tone light, “which part of the state is your house in?”

Nathan glanced back at me, his chest rising and falling heavily as he climbed. “Southwest. Why?”

I shook my head with a small smile. “Just curious.”

Southwest wasn’t too far from my hometown, but far enough to remind me how isolated I felt out here. I pushed the thought away and focused on keeping up.

***

We walked for hours, resting when necessary. By the time the sun began to rise, I could finally take in my surroundings.

The landscape was vast and rugged, the high-altitude air crisp and thin. In the distance, I spotted a few small houses perched precariously on the tops of distant hills.

“Nathan,” I said, turning to him, “the sun’s been up for a while now. Where’s your grandfather? Shouldn’t he have met us by now?”

“Grandpa’s here!”

The response didn’t come from Nathan but from somewhere in the bushes ahead.

Startled, I froze as two, then three men emerged from the underbrush.

They were older, their clothes worn and patched. The acrid smell of stale cigarettes clung to the air around them. One of the men had a grin that revealed a mouthful of yellowed teeth.

The sight of them unnerved me. Something about their presence felt... off.

Instinctively, I stepped back, positioning myself slightly behind Nathan.

The oldest man spoke first, his voice gravelly.

“Nathan! Finally back, huh? Took you long enough,” he said, his eyes shifting to me. “And this must be Maya. You must be tired, huh? Don’t worry, you’ll be able to rest once we get home.”

He reached for my bag, but I pulled it closer to my chest, refusing to let go. The tension in the air grew thick.

One of the other men broke the awkward silence with a forced laugh. “Alright, alright. Enough chit-chat. Let’s get moving—I’m starving.”

His tone was light, but his eyes lingered on me far too long, making my skin crawl.

***

The rest of the walk was unbearable. I could feel their eyes on me, not with curiosity, but with a calculated interest that made me want to shrink into myself. They weren’t looking at me as a person. It felt like they were appraising me, as if I were a commodity.

After what felt like an eternity, we reached Nathan’s house. The building was modest, tucked into a clearing surrounded by dense forest.

The door creaked open and a middle-aged woman stepped out, her face lighting up with a broad smile.

“This must be Maya!” she exclaimed, her voice warm but sharp. “Oh, she’s lovely. Look at those big eyes—so pretty! But…” Her gaze dropped to my hips and she frowned slightly. “Her waist is a bit narrow. Won’t be good for childbearing.”

I froze, my face flushing with anger and discomfort. What kind of person makes a comment like that?

What’s more, Nathan had said his mother was gravely ill, but the woman standing before me looked perfectly healthy. Her rosy cheeks and energetic demeanor didn’t match the image of someone on death’s doorstep.

Confused and uneasy, I turned to Nathan for answers, but he avoided my gaze. He simply reached out to take my bag without saying a word.

Panic began to well up inside me. My pulse quickened and my left eyelid fluttered—a childhood superstition that something bad was about to happen.

Was I… being sold?

***

I followed them inside, my unease growing with every step.

The living room was sparse, with a rough wooden table and mismatched chairs. Two people were already seated—a young man and an older woman.

The young man barely glanced at me, his gaze skittering away like he was trying to avoid eye contact. The older woman, however, stared at me with thinly veiled disapproval.

Before I could protest, Nathan’s mother, Margaret nudged me toward the empty seat next to the young man.

“Go on, sit down,” she said briskly.

Nathan, meanwhile, had disappeared without a word, leaving me alone with strangers. I sat stiffly, my hands clenched into fists on my lap. Cold sweat dampened my palms as I glanced around the room, searching for any sign of Nathan. Despite everything, I still clung to a shred of hope. He was the only person I knew here.