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.

badge clipped inside her lapel.

A broad-shouldered security officer standing one respectful step back.

And a man in a plain charcoal jacket, no tie, no visible title, one hand in his pocket, the other hanging loose at his side.

Daniel.

He had more gray at his temples now than in the photo in her tote. His face was leaner. The lines around his eyes had continue reading …