Chapter 3 - THE RED CORD
“Sophia had access to the aircraft's electrical compartment?”
I stared at the brass tag in Daniel's hand.
The hospital room suddenly seemed colder.
Daniel nodded.
“That's what the authorization record says.”
“But she's a guest. She doesn't know anything about aircraft.”
“Exactly.”
He placed the tag on my bedside table.
“I checked the records twice. Her name was added to the temporary access list yesterday.”
“By whom?”
“That's what I can't find out.”
I looked toward the door.
Vincent had spent the afternoon arranging consultations with specialists, calling the hospital director, and ordering flowers I hadn't requested.
He had money for every problem.
Except the one he'd created.
“Does Vincent know?” I asked.
Daniel shook his head.
“Not yet.”
“Tell him.”
“Anna, I need to be careful. A tag doesn't prove someone deliberately damaged anything.”
I understood.
An emergency landing could have dozens of explanations.
But Sophia having access to a restricted compartment wasn't normal.
Daniel left me his business card.
“If anyone asks about this conversation, tell them I returned your belongings.”
After he departed, I picked up the tag.
The red cord was torn.
It reminded me of something.
That morning, before boarding, Sophia had been wearing a red silk ribbon around her wrist.
I'd noticed because it matched her scarf.
A small detail.
One I'd forgotten until now.
Vincent returned at seven.
He carried a paper bag from my favorite Italian restaurant.
“I brought the soup you like.”
I looked at him.
“Did Sophia have permission to enter the maintenance compartment?”
He stopped walking.
“What?”
“Answer me.”
He set down the bag.
“I don't understand.”
I showed him the tag.
Vincent examined it.
Then his expression changed.
“Where did you get this?”
“Daniel found it.”
“Daniel Reyes?”
“Yes.”
Vincent sat beside my bed.
“Anna, that doesn't make sense.”
“Apparently, Sophia was given access yesterday.”
He shook his head.
“I didn't authorize that.”
“Then someone did.”
Vincent took out his phone.
I watched him call the aviation operations manager.
His questions were short.
His expression hardened.
Finally, he ended the call.
“The temporary access list was approved through my executive office.”
I stared.
“Your office?”
“Yes.”
“Who handles your travel arrangements?”
Vincent hesitated.
“Usually my assistant.”
“And this trip?”
He looked away.
“Sophia helped coordinate it.”
The room fell silent.
I'd spent three weeks planning that vacation.
A quiet getaway before our daughter's birth.
Then Vincent had changed the itinerary without asking me.
Now I learned Sophia had helped arrange the aircraft.
I felt foolish for ever believing the trip belonged to my marriage.
“Why?” I asked.
Vincent frowned.
“Why what?”
“Why was she involved in something that was supposed to be for us?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“She's been having a difficult time since her mother's illness. I wanted to help.”
“You could have bought her a vacation.”
“Anna—”
“You didn't have to bring her into ours.”
For once, he didn't defend himself.
A nurse entered to check the monitor.
When she left, Vincent reached for my hand.
“I'll find out what happened.”
I pulled my fingers away.
“I don't need another promise.”
He looked wounded.
But I was too tired to comfort him.
The following morning, a specialist examined me.
The contractions had stopped.
My daughter appeared stable.
However, the doctor recommended careful monitoring.
“You've been through significant physical and emotional stress,” she said. “We want you resting.”
Vincent immediately announced that he would move his schedule around.
I didn't respond.
Later, Sophia appeared at the door.
She wore a pale cream cardigan and a small bandage near her hairline.
“Anna?”
I stared at her.
Vincent stood.
“Sophia, this isn't a good time.”
She ignored him.
“I came to apologize.”
“For what?” I asked.
Her eyes filled.
“For what happened.”
“Which part?”
She looked confused.
“The accident.”
“Or taking my husband's hand while I was trapped?”
Vincent stepped forward.
“Anna.”
“No. Let her answer.”
Sophia swallowed.
“I was terrified. I wasn't thinking.”
“Neither was he.”
She lowered her eyes.
Then I noticed something.
Around her wrist was the same red silk ribbon.
Except it was shorter.
Its end looked freshly torn.
I reached toward the bedside table.
“Have you seen this before?”
Sophia looked at the brass tag.
Her expression changed.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
“Where did you get that?” she asked.
“Why?”
She looked at Vincent.
“Vincent, there's something I need to explain.”
He folded his arms.
“Then explain it.”
Sophia touched the bandage on her forehead.
“I went into that compartment yesterday.”
Vincent stared.
“Why would you do that?”
She began crying.
“Because someone told me Anna's pregnancy wasn't safe.”
I felt the air leave my lungs.
“What are you talking about?”
Sophia looked directly at me.
“Someone showed me a medical report, Anna.”
May you like
She swallowed.
“And it said Vincent already knew your baby might not survive the flight.”
