The last-minute ticket had cost me six hundred and forty dollars, a sum that made my throat dry every time I thought about our bank account.
“I understand the flight is full, but she is only nine,” I told the agent behind the desk.
The woman did not look up from her monitor, her fingers clicking rapidly across the keyboard. “The system locked the seating chart an hour ago, ma’am.”
“She has a medical condition,” I said, my hand instantly finding my wedding band again. “I need to be directly next to her in case she needs assistance.”
“You are across the aisle from each other,” the agent said, finally looking at me with a tired, practiced expression. “Row fourteen. There is nothing I can do from this terminal.”
I looked down at Allison, who was standing a step behind me, her blue backpack gripped tightly in both hands. Her shoulders were hunched forward under the massive grey hoodie, trying to make herself invisible to the crowd.
“Can we ask someone to swap?” I asked.
“You can ask on board, but the flight is completely booked,” she said, sliding our boarding passes across the high counter.
The paper felt thin and useless in my palm.
“We should just go to the gate,” Allison whispered, tugging gently on my coat pocket.
I looked at the boarding passes, then at the crowded boarding area where people were already lining up.
We were out of options before we even stepped onto the plane.
The line moved with an agonizing slowness down the narrow jet bridge. The air in the tunnel was cold and smelled of fuel, a sharp contrast to the stuffy warmth of the terminal we had just left.
Allison kept her head down, her blue backpack bouncing slightly against her knees with every step.
