The veteran swallowed, his jaw working as though he were holding back words. He looked down at his own hands as if they, too, carried untold memories. Elise felt a brief urge to ask about his life but held it back. “I wonder,” she said, almost to herself, “if she can look down from above and see us now. I wish she could see what a wonderful family she helped raise.” The veteran nodded and let out a slow, controlled breath, his gaze fixed on the pendant again. Elise sensed once more that he wanted to ask something but was holding back.
She glanced at him with gentle concern, unable to imagine the war memories he carried. Part of her wanted to ask about the days before the war, about what it felt like to fight for your country. Yet she knew that grief was fragile and some things were best left alone.
He shifted slightly, glancing at Elise’s necklace before speaking in an almost absent-minded tone. “I’m flying out to meet family, too. My wife died recently, and my son lives in the city.” Elise smiled in reply, feeling a protective warmth toward this ancient man stir within her. “That’s amazing. So great to have family around,” she replied softly. “Mara and I are actually heading out to be with my dad. He used to take care of my grandmother.” The veteran offered a single, slow nod of understanding.
The shared thread of recent loss wove a quiet understanding between them, making the hum of the cabin feel more intimate. She noticed how his fingers, rough and lined, tapped a slow rhythm on his knee—a silent testament to a lifetime of stories he chose not to tell. The overhead light caught the fine silver of his close-cropped hair, and for a moment, he looked both formidable and terribly fragile. Elise wondered about his son, about the reunion that awaited him, and whether it was a source of comfort or another layer of complexity in his grief. She decided against filling the silence with more questions, allowing his simple statement to hang in the air between them, a piece of his history willingly offered.
Outside the window, the endless dark of the night sky was punctuated by the steady, blinking light on the wing, a solitary pulse marking their passage through the void. Inside, within their small pool of light, the past and present sat side by side, held in the delicate balance of a conversation that was only just beginning.