Welcome to Westcott (ON HOLD)

1. Kismet

Sang

I stared out across the tarmac, observing the small trucks carting luggage as I tried to adjust to the sounds, the newness of where I was. There was a baby behind me, cooing at its parents, an older woman a few rows ahead, gossiping with her seat mate about the practicality of someone's shoes. Overhead compartments slammed shut as mostly patient people waited to move down the narrow aisle.

Everything about the plane seemed too small. The aisle, the seats, the space between the seats. I glanced at the empty one to my left and prayed it would stay that way just so I'd have enough room to breathe properly. I shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable, letting my gaze travel over the people still boarding.

My seat wasn't far from what I assumed was first class, and I could see men in suits still settling in. It was a sea of heads peppered with gray hair except for a guy with reddish-brown hair and broad shoulders, large headphones settled over his ears. I immediately remembered seeing him earlier in the terminal, the devastating smile he'd sent me making my cheeks grow warm just thinking about it. I sighed, glancing out the window again. Maybe things would be better now. Maybe my life could be better.

Two weeks ago, I never thought I'd be on a plane headed to New York.

But there was nothing left for me in South Carolina. Elizabeth had died a little over a month ago, the only evidence of her abuse the marks on my back and a catacomb of painful memories. The father I thought I'd known had left two weeks later, detailing his plan for the rest of my life in the documents I carried with me now. My sister Marie disappeared soon after him, her eighteenth birthday coming and going while I wrestled with the information in those documents, trying to reconcile what I knew with what was.

Two weeks ago, I thought the woman that had raised me had been my mother.

Elizabeth loved you. That was the first lie in my father's letter, the informal typed page one of three documents from him that I'd reread nearly a hundred times since he left. I had his two paragraph severance letter nearly memorized. She'd been sick for some time, and I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Sang. I wasn't the father you or Marie deserved. I'm still not, and I know that. For a few different reasons I have to sell this house... He said he'd gotten a promotion upstate that would require him to travel more, but couched in his ambiguous "few different reasons" was what he neglected to say: he had found another family. Another life.

"You didn't tell me I'd get to fly beside this little beauty today, Caroline."

I tore myself from my thoughts to see an older man leering at me, the flight attendant that had helped me settle in standing beside him with a soft smile that didn't reach her eyes. The guy winked at me this time, his wiry mustache obscuring his lips as he opened the straining button on his sport coat, an audible oof leaving his mouth when he sat down, his arm too close to mine. I tensed then, too aware of the small space between us. I looked around and realized the plane was practically full, a few more people still stowing things in the overhead compartments behind us. I tried to make myself smaller then, as if the seat itself could swallow me up and protect me.

"Are you alright?" he asked, leaning toward me. His breath smelled like the cigarettes I'd caught Marie smoking in the woods once, and from this close I could see something in his eyes that told me to keep my guard up. I managed a nod, thankful it stopped his approach as he leaned back, stretching out his legs. There was definitely not enough room in these seats. Why was everyone so close?

"First time flying?" he asked as an announcement started. I missed what was said because he was suddenly leaning toward me again, all of my focus now magnetized to the diminishing space between us. I managed a nod, hyper aware of the space that separated our thighs. "Well don't worry, they say flying's safer than driving. We'll be ok."