Mirella’s POV

About an hour later, I felt a slight movement beside me. A flight attendant had stopped next to our seats, wearing a polite smile.

“What would you like to eat, sir, ma’am?” he asked.

“I’m okay,” Henry replied without lifting his eyes from his phone.

The attendant then looked at me.

“Sparkling water, please,” I said softly, returning his smile.

“Right away,” he said before walking off.

I turned my attention back to the sky outside the window. I had been ...