Page 4 of Butterfly

After yet another selfie, a request to say the infamous line ‘Bond, James Bond’, and a handshake, I’m on my way back to the seat. “Here.” I hand the woman the foam cup, my chest warming, like I saved the world or something.

“That’s lovely, thanks.” She puts the cup on the table and opens her wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

Seriously? “Nothing.” I sit next to her, scowling and rolling the damn script into a tube.

“I insist.” Her golden eyebrows arch.

“So do I.”

After a moment of charged silence, her plush lips flatten in a line of defeat that tastes like annoyance. “Then thank you.”

“What’s your name?” I blather out before I can stop myself.

For a split second, surprise lights up those blue pools. She wraps her hands around the cup. “Sienna.”

I offer my hand. “Nice to meet you.”

She doesn’t shake it immediately. My hand remains hanging between us, and I wonder what the line between politeness and creepiness is. Should I leave my hand there, or draw it back and save my dignity?

I start to withdraw my arm when she slips her bandaged hand into mine. It’s small and soft and touches me with the lightness of a butterfly’s wings.

“Nice to meet you.” She pulls back as soon as she touches me and focuses on her cup.

I’m about to ask her something else when a noise makes me turn around. My heart takes a dip as paramedics and officers roll wooden coffins into the lounge next to ours. Only a wall of glass separates the two halls, so there’s no hiding from death. Sienna’s stare follows the caskets, her hand holding the cup shaking.

“Oh, God.” Emily wakes up with a groan at the view. “Do they have to do that?”

A hot sensation burns the back of my mouth as the echo of the wind sounds in my ears. “It’s a small airport, partially collapsed. I’m not surprised.”

“Yes, but why here now?” She straightens, shivering.

“The dead must be sent home, I guess.” I force my tone to remain neutral.

Sienna makes a noise halfway between a cough and a sob.

Through the crowd, the man from before, Tyler, makes his way towards us. Before stopping in front of Sienna, he hesitates and casts a glance at the pinewood boxes. “Sienna.” He crouches in front of her, not managing to look less threatening. “Listen, I know you don’t like to sing in public, and you don’t feel great, but the others want to sing something for Dave before the authorities load the caskets into the cargo plane. I’m not much of a singer, and Jack sounds like an Englishman being electrocuted. Would you join them?”

A shudder runs through her, and her bottom lip quivers, but she nods. “Of course; I’ll do it.”

Tyler helps her up, and as she stands, I stand as well, ready to catch her in case she falls, but I earn a curious glance from him. She leans against Tyler while they cross the lounge towards the caskets. People gather around them, heads shaking. Mutters and chatters reverberate in the high ceiling. The sad whispers are covered for a moment by the rumbling of an aeroplane taking off and the voice of an announcement from the speakers. The glass door between the two halls remains open as Sienna stands in front of one of the coffins with a group of half a dozen people. She draws in a breath. When she straightens, determination steels her gaze before the group starts to sing a sad, haunting song about losing a loved one.

One of the singers is the strong one. His voice is thundering in the hall, but Sienna sounds gentle, determined but soft. A sharp blade sheathed in velvet. She holds the notes and plays with them, stretching them until they become a rich sound that touches something deep in my chest. I’m not an expert. Maybe she’s off-key somewhere, and the pace of the song is slow, but everyone is listening. The comings and goings of the staff stop. Passengers, attendants, and officers pause to pay attention to the dead and the singing group. Other people stand up and join the song until the entire hall is singing with the improvised choir. A lump swells in my throat at the deep sorrow filling the air.

Shivers leave a trail of goosebumps on my skin when the song finishes with a long, sad note. Sienna’s eyes shine, but she wipes them quickly. After a spell of silence, a spontaneous round of applause roars in the lounge, but none of the singers acknowledge the praise. I remain standing, waiting for Sienna to return to her seat.

My pulse speeds up as she approaches, limping next to Tyler. He’s muttering something to her, his broad shoulders hunched.

“I’m going.” Emily rises from her seat, collecting her bags. On the screen, the name of her flight and the words ‘boarding now’ are blinking. She pauses and waves a hand in front of me. “Alex?”

I peel my gaze off Sienna. “Yeah. Safe trip.”

She huffs out a breath, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Back to you. See you in London.” She follows my stare before saying something about the long flight.

I reply with something polite, I think. With a final goodbye, she strides towards the less crowded side of the hall. Sienna keeps her head down as she finally arrives at her seat.

“Now stay here, all right?” Tyler hugs her gently before letting her sit. “Jack will bring you your ticket soon.” He holds her chin for a moment before dashing away.

Sienna lets out a muffled sob and hides her face in her hands. I sit down, not knowing what to say while the coffins are taken away.

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