Chapter 10 - Clear Skies Ahead
Sixteen months later, I found myself back at O'Hare International Airport, boarding a morning flight to Seattle for our annual shareholder summit.
It was a crisp, clear autumn day. The sky was an infinite bowl of brilliant blue, completely free of clouds. As I walked down the jet bridge, the scent of jet fuel and polished cabin air washed over me. For a split second, an old phantom memory tightened in my chest—the sound of an engine humming at thirty thousand feet, a soft voice murmuring, Take the window seat, babe, and the sight of a flight attendant holding a gray fleece blanket.
Then, just as quickly, the shadow vanished, replaced by the warmth of complete liberation.
I stepped onto the aircraft. The purser greeted me with a warm, respectful smile. "Welcome aboard, Ms. Vance. Seat 1A is right this way."
"Thank you," I said, offering a genuine smile. I took my seat in the spacious first-class cabin, settled into the buttery leather, and stowed my laptop bag beneath the seat in front of me.
Outside the window, the ground crews moved like clockwork, loading luggage and preparing the aircraft for pushback. I pulled out my phone and checked my messages. A brief text from Arthur wished me luck on the keynote address; an email from our regional charity board confirmed that our new foundation for underprivileged youth had reached its first million-dollar milestone.
A shadow fell over my seat. I looked up.
A young flight attendant, radiant and attentive, was standing beside me with a silver tray holding glasses of sparkling water and freshly squeezed orange juice.
"Good morning, ma'am," she said politely. "May I offer you a pre-departure beverage? And would you like an extra blanket for the flight? It gets a bit chilly over the mountains."
I looked at the blanket neatly folded on her arm. It was the exact same color as the one Chloe had clutched to her chest two years ago in blind terror.
A slow, peaceful smile touched the corners of my lips.
"No, thank you," I said, taking a glass of sparkling water and lifting it slightly toward the morning sun streaming through the double-paned window. "I'm perfectly warm."
The chime sounded overhead, and the captain's calm, steady voice crackled through the intercom: Flight crew, prepare for departure. We're looking at clear skies and smooth air all the way to our destination.
May you like
The plane began to roll backward out of the gate, turning toward the runway. As the engines roared to life and the aircraft surged forward, lifting effortlessly off the asphalt into the boundless morning light, I leaned back against the headrest.
I didn't look down at the ground shrinking beneath us. I kept my eyes fixed entirely on the horizon ahead, soaring higher than I had ever been, entirely on my own wings.
