Falling at 30,000 feets

The next day, Jane sat in the pilot lounge, a cup of dark roast coffee cradled between her hands. Steam rose in thin white wisps, curling into the cool morning air of the nearly empty room. She wasn't drinking it as much as she was holding onto it-like an anchor keeping her steady as her mind raced. Her eyes flicked to the analog clock on the wall-its hands creeping toward 10:30 AM-then back down to the polished surface of the table. Her posture, usually straight and composed like a plumb line, carried a subtle stiffness, her shoulders slightly hunched as she picked at the edge of her coffee cup.

Beside her, Gloria flipped through a glossy aviation magazine, completely at ease as she leaned back in her chair, one leg crossed over the other. Her uniform was crisp but relaxed, her hair pulled back in a neat bun that still had a few loose strands framing her face.

"Gloria..." Jane called, her voice unusually hesitant-so soft that Gloria almost missed it.

"Hmm?" Gloria responded, not looking up immediately as she paused at a page featuring the latest commercial aircraft models.

Jane set her cup down carefully on the coaster, her fingers twitching slightly as if unsure what to do with themselves. "Are you... already married?"

Gloria finally looked up, raising a perfectly shaped brow. "Yes-three years now. Why?" Then, with a small mischievous smile, she added, "Didn't you get married too? That quiet guy who's always dropping off meals for you?"

Jane nodded, a nervous smile tugging at her lips as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "We did... it was more of a practical arrangement at first, but now..." She trailed off, her cheeks flushing slightly.

"I saw your husband bringing you meals before," Gloria continued, her tone turning playful as she leaned forward slightly. "Broad shoulders, slim waist... looks very capable. The kind of guy who knows how to handle things." She winked, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "So... how's his stamina? You know what I mean."

Jane choked instantly, coughing into her hand as her face burned bright red. She grabbed her coffee and took a hurried sip-only to nearly spit it out as the hot liquid hit her tongue. "I-I actually wanted to ask something else," she said quickly, waving her hand dismissively as if brushing away the previous topic entirely. "When you first met your husband's parents... what did you bring? As a gift, I mean."

Gloria paused, studying her for a moment-taking in the way Jane was fidgeting with her cup, the faint lines of worry around her eyes. Then a warm, knowing smile spread across her face.

"Ah... arranged marriage turning real, huh?"

Jane's eyes widened in alarm, her hands flying up defensively. "N-no! It's not-we're just... we've never really talked about family before, and now he wants me to meet his parents tonight and I don't know what to do-" She stopped, realizing she was rambling and only making it worse. Her shoulders dropped as she looked down at the table, embarrassed.

Gloria chuckled softly, reaching across to pat her hand reassuringly. "Relax. I'm not teasing you anymore..I have never seen the composed captain Harley like this before . I get it-meeting the parents is nerve-wracking even when you've been together for years." She tapped her chin thoughtfully, her expression turning serious. "When I first met my in-laws, I brought a bottle of premium baijiu-my father-in-law's favorite-and some high-quality ginseng supplements for my mother-in-law. They'd mentioned wanting to try traditional remedies for her joint pain."

Jane nodded slowly, absorbing every word as she pulled out her phone to make a quick note.

"But," Gloria added, raising a finger to emphasize her point, "you should ask your husband what they actually like. Tailor your gift to them specifically-it shows you've been paying attention, that you care about who they are as people. That leaves a way better impression than something generic."

Jane's expression brightened slightly, a flicker of relief crossing her face. "Got it. Thank you, Gloria. I'll treat you to dinner or something later-really, I appreciate it."

Gloria waved her off, already standing up and gathering her things. "No need for formalities between colleagues. We look out for each other, right?" She slipped her magazine into her bag, heading for the door. "I've got a flight to Shanghai to prepare for-see you around, Jane. And good luck tonight!"

"Bye," Jane replied softly, watching her go before leaning back into her chair, her thoughts drifting.

"Baijiu..." she murmured under her breath, already scrolling through her phone to research local liquor stores that carried premium brands.

Before she could sink deeper into her planning, a voice interrupted her-rough and too loud for the quiet lounge.

"Jane."

She looked up immediately, her expression snapping back to professional composure as she recognized the man standing before her. Flight Instructor Norman Badwell-known around the airport for his aggressive teaching style and even more aggressive advances toward female staff. He was broad-shouldered with a thick beard that did little to hide his leering gaze.

He walked closer, his heavy boots thudding against the tile floor as his gaze lingered far too long on her face, then her shoulders, then lower.

"Since Reuben has been terminated," he began, spreading his hands as if delivering good news, "any plans for your career? Heard you've been doing well as a captain."

Jane stood up instinctively, her posture straightening as she reached for her bag. "No," she replied curtly, attempting to walk past him toward the door.

He stepped sideways smoothly, blocking her path completely. His smile was tight, predatory.

"My department has an opening for a flight instructor," he said, his tone shifting from friendly to something more insistent. His eyes roamed openly now, taking in every detail of her uniform, her figure. "Interested? I could put in a good word-make sure you get the position even without the usual experience."

Jane's expression hardened, her jaw tightening. "Instructor positions require exceptional teaching and leadership experience. I just passed my captain certification last month. I'm not qualified, and I wouldn't want to take a position I haven't earned."

Norman smirked, clearly uninterested in her reasoning as he took another step closer-close enough that she could smell the stale tobacco on his breath. "Must I spell it out for you, sweetheart?" he said, leaning in until his face was just inches from hers. "With Reuben gone... there's no one looking out for you. But I can take care of you-get you better routes, better pay, whatever you want."

His hand came down on her shoulder, squeezing lightly-though his fingers dug in just enough to be uncomfortable.

Jane froze for a split second-not from fear, but from sheer restraint. She'd dealt with men like him before, and she'd learned long ago that showing weakness only encouraged them further.

"Instructor badwell, I'm married," she said coldly, her voice steady despite the anger rising in her chest.

"Married?" Norman chuckled, his grin widening as if she'd just told him a joke. "Doesn't that make it more exciting? A little secret between us-no one has to know."

That was enough.

In one swift, practiced motion, Jane grabbed his wrist with her left hand-her grip tight and precise, fingers wrapping around his bones like steel. Before he could react, she twisted his arm sharply behind his back, using his own weight against him to force him forward.

"Aaah-!" Norman cried out, his knees buckling as pain shot up his arm. He stumbled forward, barely catching himself on the edge of a nearby table.

Jane didn't hesitate. She forced his arm further up until he was bent at a ninety-degree angle, completely at her mercy-then shoved him away with enough force to send him stumbling back several steps. He caught himself against the wall, his face flushed with pain and embarrassment.

Her eyes were ice-cold as she looked at him, her voice low but cutting through the sudden silence of the lounge.

"Keep your hands to yourself," she said, every word clear and deliberate. "Or next time, I won't stop at just twisting your arm. I'll have you reported to HR, and I'll make sure every pilot and crew member in this airport knows exactly what kind of man you are."