Chapter 962

• Part Four.
• I hate waiting in airports. And I really hated them this particular morning. It was just after five in the morning and I was stuck sitting in an uncomfortable chair, sipping mediocre coffee and trying to wake up. I'd managed to sleep about an hour and a half the night before and was feeling it. Amy was sitting in the seat across from me, dozing off with her head leaning on our mother's shoulder. Our father was reading the paper, about as cheerfully as he ever appeared, while waiting for the boarding call. I wanted to be back home in bed, and I wanted Amy's head on my shoulder. But neither of those things were going to happen at the moment. I knew I was just being grumpy, having only slept a couple of hours the previous night, and occupied myself with trying to find a song on my phone worth listening to at this hour. Giving up, I stood up and paced to the large windows facing the tarmac. It was far too early for this, I thought to myself, as I polished off my coffee and went for a refill. The plane wouldn't be boarding for another hour and a half or so. Dad's impatience could be infuriating.
• As I waited in the short line for my coffee, I felt a hand slip around my waist from behind. Startled, I spun around and stared in Amy's momentarily alarmed eyes.