Thankfully, she doesn't fall, but her water bottle goes flying. Her carry-on collides with the floor, and everything inside spills out.
Before I can even think, I drop to a knee, reaching for her things as they lie scattered across the ground.
“I’ve got it,” I say quickly, gathering her bottle, shoving her items in the bag, and zipping it back up before handing it to her.
“Oh my… thank you,” she breathes, clearly frazzled as she takes everything from my hands. “Thank you so much, hon. You’re an angel, sent straight from heaven above.”
“No problem,” I reply, giving her a quick nod.
Before I can stand, she’s already moving again, disappearing into the crowd as she tries to make her flight.
The second I stand and straighten my shoulders, my heart fucking stops.
The line of passengers has thinned significantly.
No.
No, no… there’s no way.
My eyes snap back to the jet bridge, scanning frantically as the last few people make their way out.
A young couple holding hands. A man in a dark hoodie. And a woman scrolling on her phone.
But not her. Not Meadow.
Oh my God.
Did I miss her?
Did I fucking miss her?
My pulse roars in my ears as I take a step forward, then another, as if I can will her to appear if I just get closer.
She still has to be on that plane. She has to be.
I rush toward the counter, my voice tight as I address the flight attendant standing nearby.
“Hey,” I say, trying to keep my composure even though I feel like I’m on the brink of a heart attack. “Is there anyone still on the plane?”
She glances at me before shaking her head. “No, sir. Everyone has deplaned.”
My stomach drops.
“Are you sure?” I press, my voice strained. “There’s—there’s a girl. She has brunette hair, brown eyes, about five-four… She was sitting near the back—”
“I’m sorry,” she repeats gently, her brows furrowed with confusion. “Everyone is off the aircraft, sir.”
All the hope I’ve been holding onto drains out of me.
I nod slowly, my eyes still locked on the empty walkway like she might appear out of thin air if I wait long enough.
I keep waiting.
Seconds turn into minutes, my hope slipping away.
But she never comes.
And in that moment, I know that she’s gone. I’ve lost her again.
