The flight was silent.

Carl had fallen asleep with a glass of scotch still balanced on his knee, the soft hum of the jet drowning out the storm inside my chest.

His head tilted toward the window, the faintest smile still carved on his lips — the kind of smile that didn’t fade, even in sleep. I watched him for too long, wondering if he ever smiled like that without meaning to.

I already knew the answer.

Outside, the ocean stretched endless and black. Somewhere beneath those waves lay ...