Chapter 16 - The Friend Who Thought She Was Helping
Rebecca did not run.
She came to the hospital when Moreno called.
She sat in the same conference room where Ethan had learned his brother helped fake the divorce email.
Her hands shook.
“I thought he knew.”
Ethan stared at her.
“You told Captain Mercer I knew.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Natalie told me she had finally told you.”
Natalie looked confused.
“I never said that.”
Rebecca pulled out her phone.
A text conversation.
Natalie’s name.
Natalie’s photo.
The messages said:
Told Ethan tonight. Awful but done.
Then:
He’s quiet. I think he needs time.
Rebecca whispered, “That came from you.”
Natalie looked at the number.
“It isn’t mine.”
The number differed by one digit.
Spoofed contact.
Allison again.
She had not directly arranged the announcement.
She had created the condition for it.
Why?
Because a public farewell would make Natalie’s resignation feel final.
It would turn an impulsive medical leave into a social fact witnessed by an entire crew.
It would make changing her mind harder.
Allison had weaponized kindness.
Rebecca’s eyes filled.
“I’m so sorry.”
Ethan believed her.
That surprised him.
Maybe because Rebecca’s error was different.
She had acted on false information with no benefit to herself.
She had made a mistake.
Not a scheme.
Natalie reached across the table.
“You didn’t do this.”
“I announced your illness to a plane full of strangers.”
“The captain did.”
“You know what I mean.”
Natalie looked at Ethan.
“If that announcement hadn’t happened…”
He finished the thought.
“I wouldn’t have known.”
“You wouldn’t have been on the flight if you hadn’t surprised me.”
The room became quiet.
A dozen accidents had collided.
His secret anniversary ticket.
A spoofed text.
A captain trying to honor a crew member.
A collapse before takeoff.
Each one had exposed another layer.
Ethan looked at Rebecca.
“I was furious at everybody who knew.”
“You had a right to be.”
“I still am.”
Rebecca nodded.
“But I know the difference now.”
That evening, Natalie began her first infusion.
Ethan sat beside her.
No grand speeches.
No promises about forever.
Just a paper cup of bad coffee and his hand over hers.
Halfway through treatment, she said, “Do you want to know why I didn’t tell you even before the screenshot?”
Ethan looked at her.
“Yes.”
“I thought you were tired of my job.”
“I was.”
“I thought you were tired of me.”
He swallowed.
“Sometimes I didn’t know the difference.”
Natalie nodded.
“Neither did I.”
That honesty hurt.
It also felt cleaner than the lies.
Ethan squeezed her hand.
“Then if we survive this, we fix what was broken before Allison touched it.”
Natalie’s eyes filled.
“If?”
He gave a small smile.
“I’m an engineer. I don’t promise outcomes I can’t calculate.”
She laughed for the first time in two days.
Then the infusion pump alarmed.
A nurse hurried over.
Natalie’s face flushed red.
Her breathing changed.
“Stop the infusion.”
Ethan stood.
“What’s happening?”
The nurse hit the call button.
“Possible reaction.”
Natalie reached for Ethan.
Then she gasped.
“I can’t breathe.”
— — —
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