Not I’m so sorry. Not oh God, what have I done. But what are you doing here — you’re supposed to be at home. The problem, in his mind, in that first unguarded instant, was not what he had done.

The problem was that I had seen it.

The problem was that the two people whose absence his entire plan depended on had inconveniently, catastrophically, appeared.

“We came to surprise you for your birthday, Luca,” I said softly, stepping closer so the crew around us could not catch every word.

“Leo saved his allowance to buy his ticket.

He hid behind a magnet rack in the terminal so you wouldn’t see us.

He drew a picture for you.” And I watched my husband, the captain, the man in the uniform two hundred strangers had just applauded, look like he was going to be sick.