Kayla, mourning the recent loss of her grandmother, was about to head home after the funeral, unaware of the nightmare awaiting her on the flight. Mistaken for someone else, Kayla had to rely on her wits to navigate the trouble she found herself in.

Exhausted from days of grieving, I longed to collapse into my own bed. Six months pregnant and emotionally drained from my grandmother’s funeral, I needed rest.

The funeral was tough, a poignant farewell to a woman who had been my rock throughout my life.

“Are you sure you want to leave today?” my mother asked as I packed my suitcase. “You can wait a few days if you need to just sit with this loss.”

I smiled at her sadly. “I know, but I need to get back to work and back to Colin. You know my husband barely manages without me.”

“It’s probably good for you to return to your comfort zone,” she said. “But your dad and I will stay until the end of the week to sort out Gran’s house and finalize anything that needs to be done. I know Dad can’t wait to get home.”

“I just wish Gran could have been around to see the baby,” I said, rubbing my belly. “That’s what I’ve wanted all along.”

“I know, honey,” my mother said. “I wish you and Gran could have had that moment, but at least you were here when she needed you most.”

Navigating the long lines at the airport, I hated flying, but it was easier than driving home. I couldn’t handle a twelve-hour car ride with my bladder constantly fighting me.

Finally, I boarded the plane, ready for the journey back to my husband.

“I’ll take that, ma’am,” a flight attendant said, reaching for my bag.

“Thank you,” I replied, settling into my seat, my body aching for rest.

“Oh, I hate flying,” the woman next to me said. “It’s the worst. But I hate driving too. I should have just stayed home.”