A Strange Request at 35,000 Feet
Seated in 14A, I buried myself in blueprints and financial models, trying to calm my nerves. Hours into the flight, a flight attendant named Bethany stopped at my row. Her kind eyes carried something unusual—an intensity that went beyond routine service.
“Sir, may I see your ID for a moment?” she asked.
Confused, I handed over my passport. She studied it, glanced at me, then at the crescent-shaped birthmark on my wrist. After a pause, she returned it with a gentle smile.
“The captain would like a word with you after we land,” she said.
My chest tightened. Why would the pilot want to speak with me?
