“She Wouldn’t Move From My Daughter’s Seat—Until My Little Girl Whispered Four Words That Made Her Go Pale”

And she had managed to make me feel as though I had caused the entire problem simply by showing up with my  children.

As the plane prepared for takeoff, I kept reminding myself that Emma was only a few rows ahead.

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The flight attendant knew where she was.

I could see her occasionally.

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The flight would move forward, and eventually this unpleasant beginning would become nothing more than a story about a difficult passenger.

At least, that was what I told myself.

The plane took off.

Oliver stayed surprisingly calm against me.

I should have been relieved.

Instead, my

 

 

attention remained fixed on row eleven.

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Whenever I caught a glimpse of Emma, she seemed to be looking down toward the same area beside the woman where she had noticed something before takeoff.

I remembered the unfinished sentence.

“Ma’am, I think you might be sitting on—”

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