Dr. Carter dashed toward the airport counter, relief washing over her when she saw the short line.
Time was against her—she needed to catch a flight urgently to handle a critical medical case. Her hands trembled slightly from nerves.
As her turn approached, she fumbled with her purse, and its contents scattered across the floor. Dropping to her knees to gather her things, she barely noticed the couple stepping up to the counter beside her. “Two tickets to Santa Monica, please,” Michael said, urgency in his tone.
Luke, the man behind the counter, gave a conflicted glance toward Dr. Carter before replying, “Only two seats left.”
Dr. Carter quickly stood, clutching her items.
“Please, I need to get on that flight—it’s an emergency. I’m a doctor,” she explained, her voice tight with emotion. Michael barely acknowledged her plea.
“We’re here first. These seats are ours,” he insisted, flashing his credit card. Dana, his girlfriend, glanced at Dr.
Carter, then turned to Michael. “Maybe we should let her have a seat?”
But Michael shook his head. “No.
We made plans. We’re sticking to them.”
Dr. Carter’s voice quivered as she said, “It’s about saving a life…”
Michael turned, his tone cold.
“Life’s hard. Everyone has problems.” Then, to Luke, he ordered, “Go ahead and book it.”
Luke completed the booking. Michael took the boarding passes triumphantly.
Dana offered Dr. Carter a sympathetic glance, and the doctor quietly whispered, “Thank you,” before turning back to Luke. “Is there another flight?”
Luke checked his screen.
“There was one seat left… but someone just booked it. I can put you on standby.”
As Michael and Dana headed toward their gate, Dana glanced back. “I can’t believe you were so dismissive.”
Michael shrugged, absorbed in his phone.
“We can’t help everyone, Dana. That’s just reality.”
Dana frowned. “Do you ever think about anyone but yourself?”
Just then, Michael bumped into another couple and snapped, “Watch it!”
The couple apologized, and Dana’s disappointment deepened.
Onboard, Dana grew uneasy.
A light flickered above, and she heard a strange noise. “Did you hear that?” she whispered. “It’s nothing.
Relax,” Michael muttered, flipping a page in his magazine. “We’re in row 13. You were rude earlier.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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