He didn’t answer.
I assumed he was already boarding his flight.
I had no idea that I was about to board the same plane.
And I certainly didn’t imagine that the man I was trying to reach would be sitting in business class with my best friend.
When I first heard Megan’s laugh, I actually smiled.
It was a ridiculous reflex.
I’d known her for twenty-two years, since our college days, and her laugh was as familiar to me as the sound of my own children calling from another room.
I was struggling to lift my suitcase into an overhead compartment when I heard it again.
I turned toward the front of the plane.
There she was, sitting near the window.
Megan wore a cream-colored jacket, gold earrings, and the perfume I’d bought her for her birthday the previous year.
For a moment, I assumed she’d been traveling with her husband, Dawson.
