REWRITE THE STARS
He’d just taken a deep sniff of the amber-colored liquid before handing it back, telling the flight attendant to pour it out.
Had her husband gone mad? Or had she? He’d spent the rest of the short flight working on his computer. Bewildered and hurt, Calleigh had fallen asleep staring out the small window of the plane, watching the lights of the Italian coastline disappear.
Now, as she looked out the small round window, she saw small clusters of lights amid the darkness, like scattered stars in the night.
“Excuse me, where are we?”
“We’re beginning our descent into Malaga Airport, madam.”