The attendant huffed and walked off, muttering something about “inconsiderate parents.”

Maya’s heart ached. She wasn’t just tired—she was exhausted to her bones. She was flying from Atlanta to Seattle to start over after losing her husband in a car accident six months earlier.

This flight wasn’t a vacation. It was survival. She had found a new job, a small apartment, and a glimmer of hope. But at that moment, hope felt very far away.

As Noah whimpered in her arms, she felt every pair of eyes burning into her. The weight of judgment was almost unbearable.