Joe looks into Nelly’s eyes, seeing the fire and sorrow of generations past. He takes her hand, his voice steady but filled with emotion.
“They will always judge us, Nelly. In their kangaroo courts. Because we love our homeland. Because we believe in something greater than their paper empires and their plastic gods.”
Nelly nods, her heart heavy but her spirit unbroken. “They fear what they can’t control,” she says. “They label love as madness, faith as delusion.”
Joe smiles sadly. “Best said in Miroslav Škoro’s song Sude Mi,” he whispers, humming the tune. The lyrics cut through the silence, a hymn of defiance against those who try to strip them of their heritage, their pride, their love.
He pulls her close, resting his forehead against hers. “Let them judge, Nelly. The only judgment that matters is from the One above.”
And in that moment, they are unshaken. Together.