The air hostess at the boarding door notices.
Her smile remains fixed, but her eyes move over Katerina carefully. Flushed face. Unsteady feet. Hand gripping my sleeve now, though I do not think she realizes she’s doing it.
“Good evening, sir,” the hostess says, then looks at Katerina. “Ma’am, are you feeling all right?”
Katerina straightens with great dignity. Too much dignity.
“I’m perfect.”
The hostess’s smile tightens.
If they decide she’s too intoxicated to fly, they can deny her boarding. Then she’s trapped here… With whoever cancelled her ticket. With whoever she’s running from.
I step closer before Katerina can say anything else damaging.
“My wife is nervous about flying,” I say smoothly.
Katerina goes still beside me.
The hostess looks at me.
I hold her gaze with the kind of calm people mistake for truth.
“It’s her first international flight,” I continue. “She had two drinks in the lounge. Less than wise, but not dangerous. I will take responsibility for her.”
Katerina’s fingers tighten around my sleeve.
The hostess hesitates.
I let my expression cool by a degree. “She will sleep as soon as we are seated,” I say.
Katerina looks up at me. I do not look down.
The hostess checks the boarding passes. Mine first. Then hers. Her eyes flick once to our different surnames.
I smile faintly. “Newly married,” I say.
Katerina makes a small sound.
I cover it by reaching for her passport and boarding pass.
The hostess’s face softens at once in that predictable way. “Oh,” she says. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
Katerina turns her face toward my shoulder. To anyone else, it might look like shyness.
I suspect she’s hiding the fact that she’s either laughing or furious.
Possibly both.
“Welcome aboard, Mr. Sokolov,” the hostess says. “Mrs. Sokolov.”
Katerina’s head snaps up.
I place my hand lightly at her waist. A warning.
The hostess steps aside, and we board.