before she could respond.
The agent apologized.
Dad simply nodded.
“Don’t worry about it.”
I watched the man disappear.
“People like that never change,” I whispered.
Dad gave me a curious look.
“Sometimes they do.”
I didn’t understand his meaning.
But seconds later, something extraordinary happened.
The aircraft’s cockpit door was open, and a pilot stepped onto the jet bridge.
He appeared to be in his late fifties, tall, with graying hair.
He glanced toward the boarding area.
Then he stopped.
His eyes locked on Dad.
For a moment, he
