Inside the plane, in the quiet hum of the business-class cabin, the overhead lights were dimmed to a soft gold, casting a warm glow over the wide leather seats and polished armrests. Outside the oval windows, thick clouds stretched endlessly, pale and heavy like a frozen sea beneath the wings. The flight attendants moved gently down the aisle, their footsteps light against the carpet, their voices low and courteous. It was a calm scene, almost peaceful, the kind of environment meant to soothe travellers into comfort.
Yet for the small group seated together, the air felt heavier than it should have.
Flora adjusted the shawl draped over her shoulders before turning slightly toward the two men seated across the aisle. Her fingers toyed with the edge of the fabric unconsciously, a subtle sign of the unease she tried to hide. She offered them a polite smile, the kind that carried both gratitude and worry.
