(Michelle Lui's POV)
Steven's jet felt different the moment I stepped in.
Not because it was luxurious — though it was, ridiculously so, with cream leather seats, soft gray carpets, and wide windows that framed the morning sky like moving paintings.
No.
It felt different because of the silence.
Soft.
Warm.
Balanced.
A silence that didn't suffocate.
Just… settled around me like a blanket.
Jeff entered right after me, dragging his carry-on like this was all routine. Kate followed, already taking pictures of the interior ("FOR MEMORIES, DUH!" she whispered loudly). And behind her, Steven stepped in — the source of that strange gravitational pull I kept pretending I didn't notice.
We took our seats.
Jeff immediately knocked out with headphones on.
Kate sat beside him, flipping through her camera roll.
And I—
I sat across from Steven.
Of course I did.
Was it assigned seating?
A coincidence?
Fate?
The universe playing games?
I didn't know.
