He sat with his wife’s photo, waiting for a son who had already boarded without him

my ribs. Twenty minutes.

Something cold settled in my gut. I abandoned the coffee line and approached the check-in kiosk. “Has the Foster party already checked in for the flight?”

The woman behind the desk typed for a moment, her face bored. “Yes, checked in and cleared.”

My breath caught in my throat. “All of them?”

She nodded, then added casually. “Boarding continue reading …