I was bringing my girlfriend home to meet my parents for the holidays. After the plane took off, I went to use the restroom.

When I came back, she was gone from the seat beside me.

I flagged down a flight attendant. She told me I'd boarded alone.

I asked the other passengers. They all said there had never been anyone sitting next to me.

But I had boarded that plane with my girlfriend. I knew I had.

She'd just peeled an orange for me, told me it would be waiting when I got back from the restroom.

How could she simply vanish?

I stared at the peeled orange sitting on her seat and demanded they search the cargo hold and the cockpit.

My shouting forced an emergency landing at the nearest airport.

Airport police boarded the plane and tore it apart, top to bottom. They didn't find my girlfriend. They couldn't even find a record that she existed.

They contacted my parents. My parents said I'd always been single, that I'd never had a girlfriend at all.

In the end, I was locked in a psychiatric facility. The other patients beat me to death.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I was supposed to bring my girlfriend home to meet my parents.

——

"Ernest Fox, what are you spacing out for? It's boarding time. Come on, let's go."

Amy Pruitt waved two boarding passes in the air, smiling at me.

Looking at that warm, gentle smile, a violent shudder ripped through my body.

I'd been reborn.

I was twenty-seven. Amy and I had been together for three full years. I'd decided to use the holiday trip to bring her home and introduce her to my parents.

I never could have imagined that this one decision would make her vanish without a trace and cost me my life.

Going over everything that had happened in my previous life, I still couldn't make sense of any of it.

I couldn't understand how Amy, a living, breathing person, could simply disappear mid-flight.

I couldn't understand why the flight attendants and passengers, who had watched us board together with their own eyes, all insisted in unison that they'd never seen Amy.

I couldn't understand why my parents, who had always doted on me, who knew full well I'd been dating Amy for three years, told the police I'd never had a girlfriend.

"Ernest, you look terrible. Are you feeling okay?"

Amy was watching me, concern written all over her face.

My heart ached.

Three years together. She'd always been so good to me. She knew my stomach was sensitive, so even though she'd never cooked a day in her life before, she taught herself. Every single day, without fail, she made me three meals. Over a thousand days and nights, and she'd never once picked a fight with me.

That was why, in my previous life, her disappearance had sent me into a frenzy. I'd fought tooth and nail to find her.

I still didn't know what had really happened last time. But this time, I refused to make the same mistakes.

I looked at Amy, dread clawing at my chest.

"What if we skip this flight? We could rebook, or take the train instead."

Amy blinked, then gave me an indulgent smile.

"Don't be silly."

"It's peak travel season. There aren't any tickets left."

"We spent three days refreshing just to grab these seats. If we give them up, we're not getting home at all."

She was right. Rebooking or switching wasn't realistic.

But the moment I thought about what had happened last time, how boarding this exact flight had ended with one of us dead and the other gone, panic clawed its way back up my throat.

What was I supposed to do?

Was there really no other way?

Wait.

The reason I'd been thrown into that psychiatric facility last time was that no one besides me could prove Amy had ever been on the plane.

So this time, all I had to do was make sure there was evidence she'd boarded with me.

The second the thought hit, I pulled out my phone. I linked my arm through Amy's as we walked toward the gate, and I started taking photos of the two of us like a man possessed.

From the ticket check to boarding, to settling into my seat, to the cabin doors closing, I documented every single step.

Then I posted a nine-photo grid of us together on Instagram.

Caption: "Boarded! Taking the girlfriend home to meet the family."

The likes and well-wishes poured in almost instantly:

"So sweet! Wishing you both the best!"

"Wow, finally meeting the parents! Congrats!!"

"Safe travels—I'm already looking forward to the wedding reception."

To be extra safe, I had Amy and me pose together holding up our boarding passes, and sent that photo to the family group chat.

"Mom, Dad—Amy and I are on the plane. We land in three hours."

My mom replied within seconds: "Finally getting to meet our future daughter-in-law! Your dad and I already went grocery shopping. We're just waiting for you two to get home!"

Between my mom's reply and the dozens of comments on my post, I finally let out a breath.

No one could possibly claim I didn't have a girlfriend now, right?

When the plane took off, the flight attendant asked everyone to switch their phones to airplane mode, then began distributing beverages.

When she reached our row, Melissa Cobb—just like in my previous life—got bumped by another passenger and accidentally splashed some orange juice on me.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."

Melissa apologized profusely, reaching to clean the juice off my shirt.

But Amy beat her to it, grabbing a napkin and gently dabbing at the stain.

"It's fine, I'll take care of my boyfriend."

Melissa thanked her politely, then turned to me with a genuine smile.

"Your girlfriend is really sweet."

I stared hard at Melissa. In my previous life, she'd said the exact same thing—complimented my girlfriend to my face.

But after Amy vanished, when I asked Melissa if she'd seen my girlfriend, she'd looked at me blankly and said:

"Sir, are you sure you're not mistaken?"

"I clearly saw you board alone."

To prevent Melissa from changing her story again, I immediately smiled at her and made a request.

"Could I ask you a small favor?"

Melissa looked at me, puzzled. "What kind of favor?"

I pulled out my phone and said earnestly:

"Today's the first time I'm bringing my girlfriend home to meet my parents. I want to document this trip properly. Would you mind taking a photo with the two of us?"

"Just as a little keepsake."

Melissa nodded without hesitation.

"Of course."

Amy and I posed with Melissa, and the three of us took a photo together.

I saved the picture carefully, then turned my attention to the elderly man sitting closest to us across the aisle—Bertram James, who looked to be nearly seventy.

His seat was the nearest to ours. In my previous life, he'd been bumped by another passenger while looking for his seat and nearly fell. Amy had caught him just in time and helped him back into his seat. He'd thanked her over and over.

So when I'd gone around asking passengers if they'd seen Amy, he was the first person I'd approached.

But he'd insisted that the seat next to mine had been empty the entire flight. That no one had ever sat there.

To make sure Amy left a deeper impression on him this time, I gently tapped Bertram on the shoulder. "Excuse me, sir."

Bertram looked at me, curious. "Yes?"

I pointed at Amy in her seat, putting on a nervous expression.

"I was wondering—what do you think of my girlfriend? How does she look?"

"My parents haven't met her yet, and I'm a little nervous."

Bertram studied Amy for a moment, then nodded approvingly.

"She's a lovely young woman. You two make a wonderful couple."

"Your parents are definitely going to love her."

I thanked Bertram for his words and sank into thought.

Both Bertram and Melissa had reacted completely naturally. Their tone, their expressions—nothing suggested evasion or discomfort.

So where was the problem?

Why had they insisted, after my previous life ended, that they'd never seen Amy at all?

I needed to push Amy's presence to the absolute maximum. I took her hand and pulled her to her feet beside me.

Under her puzzled gaze, I raised my voice so the entire cabin could hear.

"Sorry to interrupt, everyone. Just a couple of minutes."

"Today's a big day for me. I'm bringing my girlfriend home to meet my parents for the first time. We've been together three years, and we're planning to get engaged right after the visit."

"Sharing this flight with all of you at thirty thousand feet feels like fate, so I'm hoping you'd be willing to give us your blessing. Would you?"

Every pair of eyes on the plane turned toward me and Amy.

No one hesitated. Applause broke out across the cabin, warm and generous.

"Congratulations! Wishing you two a lifetime of happiness!"

"You two are adorable together. Here's to forever!"

"Can't wait to hear about the wedding!"

Amy beamed through the chorus of well-wishes, her cheeks flushed a deep pink. She thanked each person she could, then tugged me back into my seat.

"Ernest, what's gotten into you today?" she whispered, half-laughing. "Since when are you this bold? You're embarrassing me."

I gripped her hand tight, my expression dead serious.

"I'm just terrified of losing you."

Now every single person on this plane was a witness.

I refused to believe anything could still go wrong.

Amy's face softened. She reached up and ran her fingers gently through my hair.

"Silly. I love you this much. How could I ever let you lose me?"

"Is this because you're nervous about introducing me to your parents?"

To ease my anxiety, she pulled my favorite snack from her carry-on bag—a tangerine.

She peeled it carefully, head bowed in concentration, then held a segment to my lips. "Stop overthinking. Eat something. We've still got over an hour before we land."

I stared at the tangerine she was offering, and my hands went still.

In my previous life, this was the exact moment I'd gotten up to use the restroom because I couldn't hold it any longer. When I came back, Amy was gone.

All that remained was this peeled tangerine.

Right now, the pressure in my bladder was building again. But there was no way I was leaving this seat.

I ate a segment and held on to her hand like a vice.

"From this moment on, you don't leave my sight. Not even one step."

Amy laughed softly, shaking her head. "Okay, okay. I won't go anywhere."

The words had barely left her mouth when the plane lurched violently.

"Attention, passengers. We are experiencing severe turbulence due to strong air currents. Please fasten your seatbelts, grip your armrests, and remain seated."

The announcement blared through the speakers, and the shaking only grew worse. The cabin lights began to flicker—strobing, stuttering—then cut out entirely.

Total darkness.

Every passenger clung to their armrests, frozen, not daring to move.

Two seconds passed.

The lights snapped back on. The plane steadied.

My heart was still hammering. My first instinct was to grab the arm beside me.

My hand closed around nothing.

I whipped my head to the left.

Amy's seat was empty.

She was gone.

She'd been holding my hand just seconds ago.

How could she vanish in the span of a single blink?