Chapter 2 - Turbulence at Thirty Thousand Feet
The vibration of my phone died away, leaving only the cold glow of the screen illuminating my knuckles.
I didn't reply to the message. I didn't even lock the screen; I just pressed the power button, plunging the display into darkness, and shoved the device deep back into my pocket as if it were a venomous insect.
Cassandra watched me with a cautious, guarded look, her chin lifting slightly. "Important call?"
"No," I said, my voice steady despite the seismic shift happening inside my head. "Just background noise."
She let out a dry, humorless breath, adjusting Violet on her lap. "Background noise. That’s what you called my art shows. That’s what you called my phone calls when you were reviewing balance sheets at two in the morning. Everything outside of Damon Prescott’s grand design was just background noise."
She wasn't wrong, and the truth of it tasted like ash.
Before I could answer, the aircraft shuddered violently. A second later, the seatbelt sign above us flickered on with a harsh, electronic chime, and the captain’s voice crackled over the intercom, clipped and urgent.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve just encountered an unexpected pocket of severe clear-air turbulence over the Rockies. Flight attendants, please immediately secure your carts and take your jump seats. Passengers, ensure your seatbelts are fastened securely.”
The plane dropped sharply, a sickening elevator-like plunge that left my stomach suspended against my ribs.
Gasps echoed through the cabin. In row twenty-eight, Violet screamed in terror, dropping her gray stuffed elephant as it tumbled into the aisle. Luke buried his face against Cassandra’s chest, crying out as another sudden jolt rattled the overhead bins.
Without thinking, I lunged forward.
My left hand grabbed the armrest to steady myself against the violent sway of the cabin, while my right hand scooped up the gray stuffed elephant just before a rolling beverage cart could crush it.
"I've got it," I said loudly over the roar of the engines.
Another sharp drop shook the fuselage, and I slid out of my seat, dropping to one knee in the narrow aisle. Cassandra threw both arms around the twins, bracing her weight against the bulkhead as the plane bucked like a wild horse.
"Luke! Hold onto my neck, buddy!" I called out, crawling the remaining two feet toward them.
The little boy blinked tear-filled green eyes at me, his small hands instantly wrapping around my lapel with a grip so fierce it mirrored my own desperation. I reached around Cassandra, pressing my shoulder against hers to create a human barricade shielding the children from the swaying seatbacks.
For nearly five minutes, the air fought us. The plane rolled and dropped through invisible canyons of wind over the jagged mountain range below, every passenger holding their breath.
And in that cramped, chaotic space between rows twenty-seven and twenty-nine, holding my son against my chest while my arm braced the woman I had foolishly abandoned, the terrifying truth settled into my bones:
I hadn't just missed three years of their lives. If I didn't change right now, I was going to lose them entirely.
When the aircraft finally broke through the rough air and leveled out into a smoother glide, the cabin let out a collective, ragged sigh of relief.
The flight intercom chimed again. “Flight attendants, you may resume your duties. We’re passing through the worst of it now.”
I slowly shifted back, kneeling in the aisle. I held out the gray stuffed elephant.
Violet sniffled, peeking out from behind Cassandra’s shoulder, and gently took her toy back.
Luke looked up at me, his lower lip still trembling slightly. "Are the clouds dancing too hard?" he whispered, repeating the exact phrase Cassandra had used to calm us both years ago.
May you like
My throat tightened so hard I could barely speak. I reached out and gently brushed a curl from his forehead, my thumb catching his left cheek.
"They were, buddy," I managed to say, my voice thick with unshed tears. "But they're calming down now. I promise."
