On a routine cross-country flight, a strange noise from the bathroom gives flight attendant Mara an uneasy chill. She has no idea that the child behind that door is about to change her life forever. Mara Reynolds pressed two fingers against her temple as she strode briskly through the airport toward the crew gate.
The dull throb behind her eyes pulsed with each step, a reminder of the reckless hours she’d spent the night before. Atlanta’s clubs had a way of swallowing time whole, and Mara had let herself dance and drink until the neon lights blurred into dawn. Now, she was paying the price.
“Jenna!” Mara called out when she spotted her fellow flight attendant waiting near the jet bridge. “Please tell me you’ve got some aspirin.”
Jenna tilted her head and gave Mara a long look, one that held both exasperation and affection. “Of course I do,” she said, reaching into her bag, “but honestly, Mara, you should know better than to party the night before a cross-country flight.”
Mara took the pills with a sheepish smile.
“What else am I supposed to do? Visit art galleries alone? At least when I’m out, I forget about… everything.”
Jenna softened, slipping an arm briefly around Mara’s shoulder before they boarded the plane together.
“One day, you’re going to stop running from everything. Just have faith, Mara. Life has a way of working itself out.”
Mara didn’t reply.
Faith had never done her many favors. The crew quickly settled into their routine: pre-boarding checks, greeting passengers, securing overhead bins, then the choreographed safety demonstration that Mara could practically do in her sleep. Once the cabin had quieted and passengers adjusted their seatbelts, Mara slipped into the galley to down her aspirin with a gulp of water.
Maybe she’d sneak into the crew rest quarters after takeoff. Just thirty minutes of sleep—Jenna could cover. But before she could head there, Mara paused.
A sound—thin, high-pitched—cut through the low hum of the aircraft. She frowned, listening harder. It almost sounded like… a whimper?
She shook her head. Lack of sleep, too much a.l.c.ohol, and now her imagination was playing tricks on her. Still, as she walked past the aft lavatory, she froze again.
The sound was unmistakable this time. Not a cat, though—it was definitely a child. Her pulse quickened.
“Hello?” she called, tapping gently on the lavatory door. No answer. Cautiously, she unlatched the door.
The sight inside made her gasp. A small boy was crouched on the floor, knees hugged tight to his chest, his little body trembling. His wide, tear-streaked eyes lifted toward her, terrified.
“Good lord!” Mara exclaimed, her hand flying to her chest. “Sweetheart, what are you doing in here?”
The boy only whimpered, burying his face against his knees again. Mara crouched down, softening her tone.
“Hey, hey. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to scare you. My name’s Mara.
What’s yours?”
He sniffled and mumbled through hiccuping breaths. “I’m… I’m Caleb.”
Mara coaxed him out of the cramped lavatory and guided him to a jump seat near the galley. She checked the passenger manifest, running her finger down the list twice, then a third time.
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