I unbuckled my seatbelt with trembling fingers, ignoring the blinking fasten-seatbelt sign as the heavy Boeing aircraft hurtled down the runway into the midnight sky.
Stepping out into the aisle, I ignored the gasps of nearby passengers and started creeping forward toward the front cabin like a ghost haunting her own marriage.
The cabin lights dimmed for cruising altitude, casting long, eerie shadows across the carpeted floor as I edged closer and closer to row four.
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird, each step heavy with the dread of what face I was about to discover waiting in those coveted seats.
Peering cautiously around the corner of the galley, I saw a sleek blonde woman in a matching designer suit smiling shyly toward the cockpit door as if she owned the sky. …. 👇
The woman in row four turned her head slightly to check her reflection in the darkened window, and my breath caught sharply in my throat. It wasn’t just any stranger; it was Sarah, the senior flight coordinator from Terrence’s home base whom I had hosted for dinner just two months ago. 🥂
