At the edge of the aisle, Celeste stopped beside Pearl. Her gaze went immediately to the little gold flowers at her ears, then to Ruby's guarded expression, so much like Daniel's when he was young that it hurt to see. She raised one hand as if she might touch Pearl's cheek, but Daniel moved his arm gently around both children, and Celeste understood that no invitation had been offered.
She lowered her hand. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Both of you."
Ruby did not answer. Pearl watched the older woman's face with the same searching attention she had given the watch, but she said nothing either. Celeste nodded once, accepting their silence, and went down the aisle with her husband.
The walk to row twenty-six was longer than Richard remembered. He felt people watching, recognized a few faces from business flights over the years, and tried not to meet their eyes. For the first time, he experienced the discomfort of being publicly reassigned under the gaze of strangers. Yet even as he resented it, he understood with increasing bitterness toward himself that the same walk had been forced on two children who had done nothing wrong.
Walter Finch moved his cane out of the aisle when they arrived. "Afternoon," he said pleasantly. "Welcome to the last row. The bathroom makes a sound when the door opens, but you'll get used to it."
Celeste almost laughed through her tears. Richard did not. He sat down in the middle seat with a clenched jaw, then discovered the seat barely reclined. The absurdity of complaining about it, after what had happened, stopped the words before they reached his mouth.
In first class, Ruby slid into 2A and pressed her hands into the wide leather armrests as though confirming their solidity. Pearl sat beside her in 2B, tucked her green backpack under the seat ahead, and looked across the aisle at her father. Daniel took 2C and reached out to hold her hand over the narrow space between them.
A different flight attendant, a friendly man named Derek Hale, came by with orange juice and two small chocolate cakes from the galley. He apologized on behalf of the crew without trying to make the children feel responsible for the confusion. "Happy birthday, Ruby and Pearl," he said. "We hope the rest of your trip feels a lot better than the beginning."
"Thank you," Pearl whispered. Ruby inspected the cakes as though deciding whether they represented a sincere effort. Then she smiled and asked whether the frosting was chocolate, too. Derek assured her it was, and for the first time since boarding, the twins began talking about their birthday instead of the people who had moved them.
The cabin door closed. The aircraft pushed back from gate B14, and the safety demonstration began. Ruby watched every movement with renewed attention; Pearl counted the lights again, this time without needing the numbers to keep from crying. Daniel checked both their seat belts, then fastened his own and watched Atlanta slide past the window.