They mocked the woman in seat 22C—until two fighter jets aligned with her window, and a pilot spoke her name in a way that made the entire plane forget how to breathe.

and he had been quiet all flight, reading a worn paperback. His left hand trembled slightly, but his eyes were steady.

He stared at the fighters.

Then at Olivia.

“No,” he whispered.

The word came out like both prayer and injury.

Greg heard him. “You know what this is?”

Harold didn’t answer at first. He kept looking at Olivia as though trying to match her continue reading …