It cost more than I wanted to admit, but I needed the space, and I needed Lily close.
“Group four, boarding now,” the gate agent announced.
“That’s us,” Lily whispered, already standing straighter.
“Noah is more important than his schedule.”
We shuffled down the jet bridge, Noah’s tiny fingers curled against my collarbone. A businessman behind us huffed loudly when I paused to adjust the carrier, and my face flushed hot.
“Take your time, Mom,” Lily said, loud enough for him to hear. “Noah is more important than his schedule.”
I almost laughed. Ten years old, and she already had a spine I sometimes wished I could borrow.
We stepped into the cabin, and the flight attendant gave us a tight smile.
“Isn’t that our row?”
“Row 12, straight back.”
“Thank you.”
As we walked down the aisle, I noticed a woman already seated in row 12, sprawled across the window seat with her headphones on. Her coat was draped over the middle seat, her handbag on the tray table, and one shoe kicked off with her bare foot pressed against the wall.
