Damon's POV
THE AIRCRAFT PROPELS itself forward at 200 knots, the crackle of the molecules in the air clashing with metal louder now that the rumble of the engines have been reduced to a hum. Inside the cabin, though, few take note, music seeping out from earphones, lively chatter, and the clacking heels of stewardesses up and down the aisles filling the air, along with the smell of candies, salted snacks, perfume, and breath mints diffusing the odor of fresh vomit. In the first class cabin, I hear a cork pop off while beside me, the stocky male passenger in his forties snores none too softly, a pillow around his neck that I have contemplated strangling him with more than once.
I hate crowded spaces and an airplane cabin must be the worst, strangers forced to sit shoulder to shoulder for
