Memory Lies, So Do People

The SUV glided smoothly past the automatic gates, rolling into a private area where, somehow, the air itself felt more expensive. This wasn’t your average airport. No flight delay announcements. No sweaty people hauling plastic suitcases. No screaming children fighting over window seats.

Just a stretch of quiet concrete and… a plane.

Not a regular plane, of course. A matte black private jet with a tail that caught the morning light like the scales of an overpriced snake. Two crew members stood beside it in all-black uniforms.

Angela got out first, dragging Sushi’s carrier behind her while the cat let out a low growl that sounded vaguely like a threat. I followed, tugging my hoodie to shield myself from the sun that was suddenly way too bright.

Then came Sienna... still wearing her mermaid costume, sunglasses still perched on her face, and pulling a glittery suitcase like she was stepping onto a red carpet. I squinted. Sienna adjusted her shades with two fingers. And then… she walked.