The gap between me and the world

The line went silent for several seconds as Louis weighed his options.

Cabin depressurization. A shattered window.

Even with an emergency descent, every second wasted meant greater danger. He couldn’t afford to gamble.

“What are your terms?” His voice gritted out from between clenched teeth.

I watched the clouds whip past the window and spoke clearly, each word deliberate. “First, you, Louis, will immediately announce over the PA—to every passenger and the control tower—that due to your negligent supervision and mismanagement of personal relationships, crew member Ashley committed a critical safety violation. Then, you will voluntarily ground yourself and submit to investigation.”

“You’re out of your mind!” Louis exploded. “Stephanie, don’t push your luck.”

“I have a second condition,” I continued, ignoring his rage completely. “Make Ashley kneel in the aisle and bow in apology to every single passenger until this plane lands.”

The moment the words left my mouth, not just Louis—the entire cabin seemed to draw a sharp, collective breath.

Ashley shrieked like a cat with its tail stepped on. “You bitch! Who do you think you are! Louis would never agree to that!”

Her eyes darted desperately toward the PA speaker, as though Louis might materialize from it to protect her.

Louis’s voice crackled through again, thick with threat. “Stephanie, this is my final warning. Don’t test me. Remember, you’re on this plane too. If it goes down, you die with the rest of us.”

Using everyone’s lives to threaten me?

How familiar.

In my past life, he’d done the same—using over a hundred lives to force my hand, to make me forgive Ashley.

Too bad for him. I wasn’t that soft-hearted Stephanie anymore.

“Oh? Is that so?” I let out a scornful laugh. “Then let’s all die together. At least on the road to the underworld, I’ll have a decorated captain and his precious ‘momentary lapse’ to keep me company.”

I hung up again, pulled off my oxygen mask, leaned back in my seat, and closed my eyes.

A posture of pure, unbothered resignation: *Your move. I’ll wait.*

Time ticked by.

The cabin air grew thinner. The high-pitched shriek from the breach sharpened—a siren song from the reaper himself.

Passengers grew restless. Some began to cry; others scribbled what looked like final notes.

The fear of death settled over everyone equally.

Donna, the chief flight attendant, was sweating bullets. She directed the crew to stuff pillows and blankets against the hole, but the intense pressure differential sucked them straight out.

“It’s useless!” shouted a middle-aged man who looked experienced. “The pressure differential is too great! If we don’t seal that breach, this plane is going down!”

All eyes turned to me once more.

This time, their gazes held no accusation—only fear and desperate pleading.

Donna rushed to my side, her tone bordering on begging. “Stephanie, I’m begging you! The passengers are innocent! You can’t just sit there and watch everyone die!”

I opened my eyes and gave her a flat look.

Innocent?

In my past life, when Louis and Ashley teamed up to smear me—claiming I’d called the police out of petty jealousy over Ashley—how many of these “innocent” passengers had stepped forward to call me vicious and heartless?

Now they were scared?

“My terms,” I said, unmoved, “are exactly what I just stated.”

Just then, a young mother clutching her child—his face purpling from lack of oxygen—collapsed to her knees before me.

“Please! Save my baby! He’s so little!” Her sobs were raw, gut-wrenching.

I looked at the child, and my heart gave an inevitable, painful twist.

In my past life, I’d had a child too.

Louis’s.

But after a long-haul flight, exhausted, I lost it.

Louis had held me and said, *It’s okay. I’m enough.*

Now, looking back, maybe he was relieved.

Relieved that losing the child cleared the path for Ashley’s arrival.

My heart hardened to stone once more.

Looking down at the kneeling mother, I spoke slowly. “Let him beg Captain Louis. *He’s* the one who values his pride—and Ashley’s—over all your lives.”

My words were the match that lit the fuse.

The passengers’ pent-up fear and fury ignited.