We stepped into the cabin, and the flight attendant gave us a tight smile.
« Isn’t that our row? »
« Row 12, straight back. »
« Thank you. »
As we walked down the aisle, I noticed a woman already seated in row 12, sprawled across the window seat with her headphones on. Her coat was draped over the middle seat, her handbag on the tray table, and one shoe kicked off with her bare foot pressed against the wall.
« Mom, » Lily whispered, « isn’t that our row? »
« Yes. Let me handle it. »
The line of passengers stacked up.
I checked the numbers above us just to be sure. Twelve A and twelve B, both circled on the passes in Lily’s hand. My stomach tightened, but I told myself it was probably a simple mistake, the kind you sort out with a smile and a boarding pass.
I tightened my grip on Noah, felt Lily press against my hip, and stepped forward.
