One of those nights, Marco broke the quiet.

“Mom… I want to be a pilot.”

Teresa paused, needle in hand.

Pilot.

The word felt enormous. Expensive. Distant.

“A pilot, son?” she asked softly.

“Yes. I want to fly the big planes… the ones that take off from Mexico City.”

She smiled, though fear stirred inside her chest.

“Then you’ll fly,” she said. “And I’ll help you.”

She already knew aviation school cost more than she could imagine.

When both boys graduated high school and were accepted into an aviation academy, Teresa made the hardest decision of her life.