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car at the airport. “You don’t have to wait around if you don’t want.”

“Where do I have to go? It’s not like I’m in a big hurry to get back to the hotel room.”

He paused with his door half open. “When all of this is over we’ll take another trip. Maybe fly to another country altogether.”

“It’s alright. I have to get my shit together first. You know, quit drinking, find a job. After that, who knows?” They started walking.

Tyler pulled in a few cars away. He grabbed the gun and stepped out of his truck. They were still a hundred yards from the terminal doors. He pointed the gun at Ray’s back.

I pop the old fucker once, grab Dawn, and we’re out of here. No one close by to see it happen.

A police car appeared as the two reached the curb at the end of the parking lot. Tyler stuffed the gun into the back of his pants and pulled out his phone in one smooth move. He pretended to read the screen but kept an eye on Dawn’s father as he waved at the officer behind the wheel and they crossed in front of the cruiser. By the time the cop had driven out of sight, the two had already entered the building.

“Goddamn it!” Panic filled him. Tyler had lost his opportunity. He scratched frantically at his hair trying to figure out a next move. He saw a sign at the row’s end of parked cars that read Short Term Parking. “They’re not staying long,” he muttered. Or more likely, one of them was flying out and the other was driving away. Her father would be taking a plane. His old bag mom was probably closer to death than they’d realized. Dawn will be back out this way soon.

Tyler returned to the truck and started his wait.

Dawn stood in the queue with her father as he waited to get his boarding pass. The flight to Kelowna, as it turned out, was full. He had snagged the very last ticket. “I guess it was meant to be a solo trip after all,” she said after as they walked the length of the terminal passing by small restaurants and gift stores towards the security line.

Ray checked his watch. “There’s about ten minutes to spare before I have to go through. You want to grab a quick coffee?”

“Nah.” She’d already spotted a lounge next to a book store. “I’m going to head back to the hotel and get a few more hours of sleep.”

Ray squeezed her hand at the end of their walk. “Have a good rest and get something to eat when you get up. He pulled out his wallet and handed her two hundred dollar bills. “Just in case I miss the flight out tonight for whatever reason. You can pay a second night on your room.”

Dawn hugged him. “I’ll see you later, and all the best with Uncle Bruce and David.”

She waved at him one last time after he passed through the scanner, and then walked a straight line without hesitation for the lounge.

“What can I get you?” The server asked, placing a paper coaster on the table she’d sat at.

And then Dawn paused. She recalled watching her dad getting punched in the face the night before. “Any kind of non-alcohol beer will do,” she finally replied.

A woman came over the intercom announcing flight W-376 was ready to begin boarding. Twenty minutes earlier than Ray expected. People mumbled around his gate that it had to do with the snowstorm moving up from the south. If the pilots were in a hurry to get ahead of it, Ray didn’t mind. The sooner he got to Kelowna, the better. He just hoped the return flight wouldn’t be delayed because of it.

One of the flight attendants checked his ticket and studied the morose picture inside his passport before handing it back. “Have a nice flight, Mr. Wallace.”

He started through the jet bridge following a young couple arguing about which one would be sitting next to the window. A woman was coughing behind Ray, a little too close for his comfort. Another flight attendant looked at his ticket. “Seat 18C, about halfway down and to your left, sir.”

“Thank you.” He had to pause at the section 10 and wait for the couple to make up their minds about the window seat. The wife won, and they finally sat. Ray carried on, brushing past other travelers already seated and more stuffing bags into the overhead bins. He looked ahead and saw the 18 section. There was a big black garbage bag in the aisle seat.

The bag started to move, and Ray froze. No. Not here.

Someone sitting in a seat next to him grabbed his hand. It was ice cold. “Don’t sit down.” A familiar voice said. Ray could feel the hair on the back of his arm stand. He looked down and saw his mother. She wasn’t old anymore. This was forty-something Nancy Wallace from long ago. Her expression was a cross between fear and determined resolution. “You don’t belong here,” she whispered.

There was a man sitting beside her staring out the window. He turned and looked up at Ray. “Listen to your mother.” It was his father. He’d passed away fifteen years earlier, but an even younger version of him was here now. They were the parents that had picked him and Alicia up from his grandmother’s home on that late summer evening in 1980.

Ray closed his eyes. This wasn’t happening. His parents weren’t here. His mother wasn’t holding his hand. The black thing was not sitting in his seat.

He opened his eyes. Alicia was standing on the aisle seat of 18C, her little hands clutching the headrest in front of her. She wasn’t a burnt, unrecognizable husk anymore. She yelled at him. “Get outta here, Raymond! This

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