“You know that isn’t what
I’m asking.”
Ethan’s hands tightened around the mug.
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“You always have a choice.”
“No, Mom. She was dying.”
“And now?”
“Now she isn’t.”
Margaret watched her son.
“What was her name?”
“Victoria.”
The mug stopped halfway to Margaret’s mouth.
“What?”
Ethan looked up.
“Victoria. Why?”
His mother set the mug down very carefully.
“Last name?”
“I don’t know.”
Margaret’s face had changed.
“Ethan, what flight?”
“2247.”
“Where was she sitting?”
“Business class. Mom, what is this?”
Margaret stood and walked toward the counter where her phone was charging.
Her fingers moved quickly.
Then she froze.
“Oh, God.”
“What?”
She turned the screen toward him.
A news alert had appeared.
