Chapter 1

The smile on Jason Zimmerman's face froze.

He lowered his head and looked at the file I slid back to him before casting his gaze upon me.

"Mr. Lowe, what… do you mean you won't approve it?"

"I mean it literally."

Jason tugged at his tie and continued, "Why don't you go through it again? Yasmin Sullivan's total flight hours exceed the required 300 hours, making her eligible for the promotion.

"She got an A for the simulator assessment. She scored full marks for the three emergency procedure executions last year. You can never get another co-pilot in the country of the same age with comparable achievements."

"Mr. Zimmerman, as the chief examiner, I have the right to reject any record that I find suspicious without the airline's permission."

Jason's hand was still placed on top of the file.

"Mr. Lowe, how about this? I've booked a table at Beston Club for tomorrow night. Why don't we—"

"Take the file back."

He remained silent for a moment, and the faint smile on his face disappeared completely.

He grabbed the file, turned around, and left.

When he reached the door, he paused and said, "Mr. Lowe, you're 29 this year."

"Yeah."

"It must've been hard to get to this position, right?"

His voice wasn't loud, and it sounded like he was mumbling.

The door closed, and the office fell into silence.

I turned around and stared at the faint mark on the file that was placed on the desk.

The name written in the emergency contact column was Zachary Lowe.

I stared at it for a while, then turned and looked out of the window.

It was a stretch of beautiful azure, just like the sky from 20 years ago.

My uncle, Peter Wood, once told me that he had stood in front of the county hospital and kept calling my dad back then.

There were 37 missed calls.

Finally, the 38th call got through. Noises rang out from the other end of the line. There was children's laughter and the sound of propellers winding down.

My dad only replied, "The weather is bad today. The aircraft can't take off."

With that, he ended the call.

Hugging Mom, whose heart had stopped beating, Uncle Peter sat in the corridor outside the emergency room the whole night.

The next day, someone posted a photo on the local forum.

In the photo, a white Cessna flew across the sky, with pink petals drifting down from the aircraft.

The sky was clear.

…

In the afternoon, my secretary, Annie Grant, knocked on the door.

"Mr. Lowe, we've received a call from Zach Airways. They asked if you've finished reviewing the file sent by Mr. Zimmerman and when you will be able to approve it."

"I looked through everything. Tell them that the rejection letter will be posted on the system tomorrow."

Annie hesitated for a second. "Mr. Lowe, the person in charge of Zach Airways is… Zachary Lowe."

"I know."

She met my gaze and fell silent.