Chapter 7 - The Shift in the Sky
Megan didn't stand up. She stayed right there, on her knees on the floor of the cabin, at eye level with Annalise.
"Look at me, Annalise," Megan said, her voice shaking violently, but filled with a fierce, absolute conviction. "Look at me."
The girl looked up.
"You belong here," Megan said, reaching out to gently touch the girl’s trembling shoulder. "You belong in this seat. You belong anywhere you want to go in this world. Your mother was right. You are a princess, and I was so wrong. I was scared, and I was tired, and I took it out on you, and that is the worst mistake I have ever made."
Annalise stared at her, her lip trembling.
Across the aisle, the man in Seat 1C leaned down. His eyes were red, wet with tears. He reached out and gently picked up a few of the legal documents that had rolled near his shoes, sliding them back into the gray backpack.
"Here, sweetheart," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Let's get these safe."
The executive in 1A stood up from his seat. Without saying a word, he stepped into the aisle, knelt down beside Megan, and helped gather the remaining envelopes of money. He smoothed down the corners of the papers, his powerful hands careful and reverent, and placed them neatly back into the bag.
"I'm Richard," the man in 1A said softly to Annalise. "I have a daughter your age. Your mom... your mom is a wonderful person for taking care of you like this."
Annalise sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve. "She tried really hard."
"I know she did, kiddo," Richard said, offering a warm, reassuring smile.
Megan stood up slowly, bringing Annalise with her. She guided the girl back into Seat 1D, making sure she was settled comfortably into the wide leather cushion.
"Stay right here," Megan said gently.
Megan walked briskly back into the forward galley. Brenda was standing there, tears streaming down her face, having heard every word through the curtain.
"Brenda," Megan said, her voice clear, sharp, and filled with a sudden, unshakeable purpose. "Get the meal cart."
"Megan, we only have the two standard options—"
"I don't care," Megan said. "We are going to give this child the absolute best service this airline has ever produced. Get the linen napkins. Get the real metal silverware from the galley storage. Get the fruit plates from the pilot crew meals. Everything."
"On it," Brenda said, wiping her face and springing into action.
Megan grabbed a clean white cloth tablecloth—reserved usually for long-haul international flights—and carried it out to Row 1. She draped it carefully over Annalise's tray table, smoothing out the wrinkles with her hands.
She set down a heavy metal fork and knife, a sparkling glass of ginger ale with a wedge of fresh lemon, a bowl of warmed nuts, and the hot, steaming plate of grilled chicken and roasted potatoes.
Then, Megan pulled the second tray table down from the empty middle space, opened her own emergency stash of catered desserts—a slice of rich, dark chocolate truffle cake—and placed it right next to the plate.
"This is for you, Princess Annalise," Megan said softly, bowing her head slightly in a gesture of profound respect. "Compliments of the entire crew."
Annalise looked at the elaborate spread before her. The smell of hot food filled her senses. She looked up at Megan, then at the passengers around her, who were all watching with warm, soft smiles.
Slowly, tentatively, Annalise picked up the fork.
May you like
She took her first bite.
A tiny, breathless sigh escaped her lips, and for the first time since she had walked onto the aircraft, a small, fragile smile broke through the sadness on her face.
