Ethan wandered around the quiet village, relying on his memory to navigate. After several minutes, he finally found what he was looking for, a dilapidated shack.
The place looked barely functional, with broken windows and a door that seemed to hang by a thread, just sturdy enough to block out the wind and rain.
"This should be it," Ethan muttered, stepping inside.
In the small courtyard, he spotted a young girl, no older than 11 or 12, sitting on the porch. She rested her chin in her hands, her gaze fixed on the sky.
"That's her," Ethan confirmed to himself.
Walking closer, he said, "Hey there, little one. Still waiting for the plane today?"
The girl's eyes lit up as she heard him, her face bright with curiosity. "You know about planes too?"
