Halfway to Northbridge, a Flight Attendant Asked Why I Kept Watching the Left Wing. I Told Her, “Because That Isn’t Turbulence.” Ten Minutes Later, the Captain Came Looking for Me.
At 1:37 in the morning, somewhere beyond the lights of Bellmere, I realized the airplane was lying to its pilots.
I did not know yet why.
I did not know someone at Aerwyn Air had spent months burying maintenance records.
And I certainly did not know the tiny irregular movement I could see through my window was connected to the reason I had walked away from military aviation two years earlier.
I only knew what my body was telling me.
Something was wrong.
Flight 721 had departed Evermere International Airport shortly before midnight, bound for Northbridge.
It was supposed to be uneventful.
That was exactly why I booked it.
Overnight flight.
Window seat.
No conversation.
