Lauren
The plane hums gently beneath us, a constant low vibration that lulls my tense muscles, but the restlessness in my chest refuses to fade.
The world outside the window is a blur of clouds, white and endless, stretching into infinity. It’s a view I should be able to appreciate—one that should offer me some semblance of peace—but all I feel is dread, a tight coil of worry gnawing at my insides.
Owen and Abigail are in the back, their chatter a soft background noise that’s somehow both comforting and aggravating. It’s the normalcy of it all, their innocent questions about how the plane works, how they’ll get to school when we’re back. There claws popping in and out despite my scolding.
They don’t know what’s really going on. They have no idea how much is hanging in the balance rig
