(Michelle Lui's POV)
By the third hour in the air, Jeff was snoring.
By the fourth, Kate had taken so many cloud pictures she could publish a coffee-table book titled:
"FLUFF: A Study in Atmospheric Cotton Candy."
By the fifth hour, the cabin lights dimmed, the jets hummed steadily, and the four of us sat in a soft bubble of sky-lit quiet.
Steven across from me.
Kate diagonally beside me.
Jeff fully unconscious and drooling.
It felt like a small world suspended above the real one.
Peaceful.
Too peaceful.
The kind of peaceful that makes your heart aware of things.
--
QUIET — AND THEN NOT SO QUIET
The jet had settled into cruising altitude when Jeff stirred.
His eyes opened halfway. He squinted at the tray in front of him.
Then he glared at Kate.
"…why is there a croissant on my lap?"
Kate crossed her legs primly.
"You looked hungry."
"You tried to feed me while I was unconscious?!"
"It was for SCIENCE," she argued.
Steven let out a quiet exhale through his nose—
