I wanted to storm forward and scream, but instead I became strangely calm. I opened Mom’s chocolates, removed six truffles, and placed my wedding ring inside the box. Then I cut off the faded friendship bracelet Megan and I had shared for twenty-two years. On a piece of paper, I wrote that Mom had suffered a stroke, that I’d been sitting in row twenty-seven the entire time, and that Megan could keep the bracelet.

A flight attendant carried my “gift” to row two. Megan smiled as she opened it. Then she froze. Ryan unfolded my note, and his face turned bright red. Megan jumped up, struck her head on the overhead bin, and ran into the restroom. Eventually, Ryan turned around and searched the cabin until his eyes found mine. He started to stand, but I slowly shook my head. He sat back down. For the remainder of the flight, Ryan remained alone in row two while I quietly cried in the back, wondering how completely my life had changed.