She’d Sworn Never to Fly Again. Then Someone Poisoned the Co-Pilot Six Miles Over the Atlantic

I could feel the airplane through the soles of my feet.

I could hear the specific wrongness in it, the way a mother hears the specific wrongness in a child’s cough.

Whatever I had lost in those eighteen months, this had waited for me, patient and intact.

The jet dipped its nose to the right, drifting off level, and Reeves hauled the yoke to bring it back.

“Don’t fight it,” I said.

“I have to keep us level — ”