When the taxi finally pulled up to the arrivals area at Terminal Four nearly an hour later, the airport was quiet, illuminated by bright fluorescent lights reflecting off wet pavement. I stepped out into the damp air, pulled my coat tightly around myself, and walked through the sliding glass doors into the main concourse.

I scanned the rows of waiting areas and international baggage carousels. It didn’t take long to find him. Christopher was standing near the exit of the customs hall, his back turned to the crowd, his posture tense and rigid. Beside him stood a young woman wrapped in a dark coat, holding a single worn travel bag. Her face was pale, her features striking and familiar from the old family photographs Christopher kept in his study.

As I approached them, the footsteps of my leather boots echoed against the polished airport tile. Christopher turned around, expecting another traveler, but his eyes widened in absolute shock as he saw me walking toward him.

“Catherine?” he whispered, his voice trembling slightly above the ambient noise of the terminal. “What… what are you doing here?”

I stopped a few feet away from them, looking between Christopher and the sister he had kept hidden from the world.

“You promised to stand beside me and share everything,” I said quietly, my voice calm, steady, and resolute despite the storm outside. “If we are going to start this marriage, Christopher, we start it with the complete truth. Right now.”