Page 147 of The Sins of Noelle

The space is crammed as I'm forced to stare at Noelle less than a foot away from me.

Five hours.

In about six hours we should be there.

As long as I continue to ignore her, everything should go according to plan.

We make ourselves comfortable and soon the plane is ready for take-off.

I remove a Kindle from my bag, loading my selection of books as I decide what type of genre I'm in the mood for. Certainly, with my biggest distraction in front of me, it has to be something extremely immersive.

I pick a political thriller just as the plane goes into taxi mode, ready to go up in the sky.

I barely get to read one sentence as a low, barely audible sound echoes in my ears.

Looking up over my Kindle, I note the stiffening of her body, the harshness of her breath and the clenching and unclenching of her small hands.

Just as the plane takes off the ground, her eyes squeeze shut as she looks on the verge of fainting.

"If anyone saw you, they'd think you've never been on a plane before."

She doesn't answer for a moment.

A slow, torturous breath escapes her lips.

"I don't have too many good memories of the last time I was on a plane," she murmurs softly, her body still tight with tension.

"Last time…" I trail off as my eyes widen in realization. "When you were rescued."

She gives me a brisk nod.

"I thought you were out of it," I mention, a frisson going down my back as I remember how I'd left her back then…

"I was inandout of it," she says, slowly opening her eyes. "There were a few brief moments of consciousness and…" she swallows hard. "The pain medication hadn't kicked in."

I stare at her as her words slowly sink in.

She'd been dying.

Her last memory on a plane had been when she'd been at death's door.

"Every little turbulence reminds me of that pain," she continues.

"Why didn't you say so? I could have asked the doctor to prescribe you something for it."

She shrugs.

"I didn't want you to think I wanted your pity," she admits in a low voice before looking away.

The plane is now well in the air and her breathing seems to be more regulated.

"Pity is the last thing I feel for you, Noelle. Anger? Disappointment? Yes. But not pity.Neverpity."

She slowly turns to me.

"Well… That's even worse," she whispers.

"Tell me about Ann Marie," I suddenly say.

---