She Stole My Seat on My Private Jet. She Forgot I Owned the Sky.

Not because of weight distribution.

Not because of some last-minute security issue.

Someone had wanted me to see it before I saw her.

Three trunks.

One garment bag.

One small leather carry-on containing my laptop, my medication, and the folder Graham did not know existed.

I looked at that folder through the glassy cold and almost laughed.

The universe has continue reading …