Chapter 3 - The Woman Three Rows Back
Grant didn't move.
He stood wedged between my row and hers, one hand still clamped on the headrest, his body half-turned toward the back of the plane.
The woman three rows back hadn't looked away.
She was maybe thirty-five, dark hair pulled into a low knot, a carry-on bag still sitting in her lap like she'd forgotten to stow it. Her eyes were locked on Grant with an expression I recognized right away.
It was the same one I'd been wearing for three days.
The flight attendant touched Grant's arm.
"Sir. Your seat."
He turned back to me. His voice dropped to almost nothing.
"This isn't what you think."
"Sit down, Grant."
"Nora—"
"The kids are watching you."
He glanced down at the three of them. Ivy had woken up and was staring at her father with wide, uncertain eyes.
He flinched.
Then he straightened, turned, and walked back toward the front of the plane without another word. The curtain swung shut behind him.
I let out a long breath.
Ivy reached up and patted my cheek with one small hand, the way she did whenever she sensed something was off. I caught her fingers and held them.
"It's okay, bug," I said. "Mama's okay."
I wasn't sure that was true. But I kept my voice level.
Fifteen minutes went by. The babies settled. I handed out crackers and juice from the bag I'd packed — the bag Grant hadn't carried a step of — and I sat very still and thought about the reservation I'd found three nights before.
I'd been hunting for the resort confirmation. Grant had asked me to forward it to his work email. I'd opened the booking app and found a second reservation I hadn't made.
Same dates. Same destination.
One room. Two guests.
Grant Ellison. Bethany Kerr.
I hadn't said anything. I'd taken a screenshot, closed the app, and sat on the edge of the bed for a long time while the babies slept.
Then I'd made one phone call.
Not to Grant. Not to a lawyer.
To the bank.
I'd put a second authorization requirement on the travel card — the one linked to my savings — so any charge over fifty dollars needed my approval by text. Quiet. Clean. No shouting.
I hadn't canceled the card. I'd just made sure that when Grant tried to use it at the resort, it wouldn't work without me.
I'd thought that would be enough.
I hadn't planned on Bethany Kerr being on the same plane.
A shadow fell across the aisle. I looked up.
She was standing there, carry-on still in one hand. Her face had some color back in it, but her jaw was locked tight.
"I'm sorry to bother you," she said. "Are you Nora?"
I looked at her for a moment. "Yes."
May you like
She sat down in the empty aisle seat across from me without waiting to be asked. Her hands were shaking a little.
"My name is Bethany," she said. "And I think we need to talk."
