THIRD PERSON POV
As soon as their jet landed on board, Zora knew where they were. "Mañana," the tall, severe-looking man in a grey uniform greeted them.
"We're in Spain?" Zora looked at Hrolf, her eyes wide. He nodded. "Oh my goodness!" She babbled excitedly, greeting the officer in fluent Spanish language. The immigration official stern face soon softened when he realized that Zora understood him in his language, and talked buoyantly while he stamped their passport and welcomed them nicely to Spain.
"How did you know that my mama is from here? I haven't been here in years!" She said while they descended the steps of the jet. "But we are not in Madrid, are we?" She looked around, trying to perhaps find any signboard that could indicate where they were.
Hrolf shook his head. I'm still
