today?” Her voice was so gentle that the man’s smirk wavered. Mom frowned, confused, but opened her purse and handed it over. The attendant read it, then read it again, and her hand began to tremble. She stood up so fast that her knee hit the seat in front. “Please stay where you are,” she whispered to us, then hurried down the aisle toward the front.

The man crossed his arms. “Finally. Now they’ll move them.” But the curtain behind the galley opened, and two more attendants peered out at our row, whispering. One covered her mouth. My heart pounded. Mom’s fingers tightened around mine, and her face had gone pale. Then the intercom chimed, and a deep voice said, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain. Before we continue, I need everyone’s attention. There is a passenger in row 14 I have waited thirty-four years to find.”