My Father Laughed When I Stood at the Gate With No Seat Assigned — But When Boarding Began, a Uniformed Escort Spoke My Name, and Everything He Believed About Me Collapsed

Jonathan frowned. “Transport?” he echoed, stepping closer. “There’s been some confusion. She’s booked commercial.”

The man didn’t look at him.

“There’s no confusion,” he replied calmly. “This arrangement was made by Axiom Strategies to ensure Ms. Reeves arrives on schedule.”

My father blinked. “Axiom?” he repeated. “That’s a consulting firm. They advise federal agencies.”

The man inclined his head slightly. “Yes, sir. They do.”

Miles laughed, short and sharp. “You’ve got to be kidding. She freelances. She edits reports.”

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