Oliver Reid stood on the sun-washed pavement of JFK International Airport, holding his daughter's small hand tightly in his own. The sounds of rolling suitcases, announcements over the PA system, and the steady hum of planes taking off filled the air, but they barely registered with him. His mind was solely focused on the woman walking ahead of them, his wife—his everything.
Sophia, her dark curls bouncing as she walked beside him, skipped slightly to keep up with his longer strides. At 10 years old, she was the perfect blend of her parents—her mother's grace and beauty, his sharp eyes and quiet strength. But today, her usual energy seemed dampened, as if she could sense the unease in the air, the reluctance in every step her father took toward the terminal.
"Do you have to go, Mom?" Sophia's voice was small, almost lost in the bustle around them, but Oliver heard the tremble of worry in it.
Natalie Reid, walking a few paces ahead, turned to face them, her smile as bright as ever. She was the kind of woman who could command a room with just her presence—tall, elegant, and effortlessly beautiful. Her sharp business suit did nothing to hide the warmth and care in her eyes as she looked at her daughter.
"I'll be back before you know it, sweetheart," Natalie said softly, kneeling down to Sophia's level. She brushed a stray curl from her daughter's forehead and tucked it behind her ear. "Just a few meetings, and then I'll be back home. We'll have that picnic in Central Park we talked about, okay?"
Sophia nodded, but Oliver could see the sadness in her eyes, mirrored by the quiet ache in his chest. He knew how much Sophia hated these goodbyes, and truth be told, so did he. But duty called, and Natalie's work took her all over the world. This was just another trip, another routine flight.
Or so he told himself.
Natalie stood and turned to Oliver, her expression shifting slightly, a mix of concern and something deeper, something unspoken. She took a step toward him, her hand resting on his chest. "You'll take care of her, right?"
Oliver swallowed, forcing a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Always."
There was a moment, a pause that stretched longer than it should have, where neither of them spoke. The truth lingered in the air between them, something both of them felt but neither wanted to acknowledge—the world wasn't as safe as it used to be. And with his background, Oliver knew better than most how unpredictable things could become.
But he kept those thoughts buried, for her sake.
"I'll call as soon as I land," Natalie said, pulling him into a quick embrace. Her lips brushed his cheek, and when she pulled back, her eyes lingered on his for a second longer than usual.
"Safe flight," he whispered, his voice low.
She nodded, a final smile for both of them before turning to head toward the gate. Oliver watched her walk away, his hand tightening around Sophia's. They stayed there for a moment, just watching her until she disappeared into the crowd, swallowed by the flow of passengers making their way through security.
"I miss her already," Sophia mumbled, her small voice heavy with emotion.
Oliver knelt down to face his daughter, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand. "I know, Soph. But she'll be back before we know it."
He pulled her into a quick hug, and they stood together for a few moments, surrounded by the constant noise of the airport. Then, with a deep breath, Oliver rose to his feet and looked toward the glass windows, watching as Natalie's plane taxied out to the runway.
The late afternoon sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the tarmac. Everything seemed normal—mundane, even. But deep down, something gnawed at Oliver. A knot of anxiety that had formed the moment they arrived at the airport, and it was only growing tighter.
He tried to shake it off, telling himself it was just the usual worry that came with saying goodbye. But something about this day felt… different.
"Let's go, sweetheart," Oliver said, motioning toward the exit, though his eyes lingered on the plane one last time. Sophia took his hand, but before they could take a step, a blinding light flashed outside the glass window.
Oliver froze.
The sound that followed was deafening. A loud, bone-rattling explosion shook the ground beneath them. Sophia screamed, her grip tightening on his hand as they both turned to see flames shooting up into the sky.
Natalie's plane.
For a moment, Oliver couldn't move. His body locked in place as his mind struggled to process the scene unfolding before him. A fireball erupted mid-air, swallowing the entire aircraft in a blazing inferno. The tail of the plane spiraled away in a sickening arc, metal shards and flaming wreckage raining down onto the tarmac.
He couldn't hear anything, not even Sophia's cries. All he could hear was the rush of blood in his ears, the silent scream that echoed through his mind.
This wasn't real. This couldn't be happening.
But it was.
The fireball continued to expand, and pieces of the plane—twisted metal, smoldering seats, parts of the fuselage—hurtled toward the ground. Toward them.
Instinct kicked in.
Oliver grabbed Sophia, scooping her up into his arms as his legs finally obeyed him. He ran, his heart pounding in his chest as debris began to crash down around them. The sound of screaming filled the air, the roar of the flames overwhelming everything.
People scattered in every direction, chaos erupting as bodies were thrown to the ground by the force of the blast. A massive piece of the plane's wing smashed into a nearby train platform, sending shards of glass and metal flying. The train itself—still boarding passengers—exploded into flames, the blast sending a shockwave through the terminal.
Oliver didn't stop. He couldn't.
Sophia clung to him, her face buried in his shoulder, her sobs muffled by the deafening roar. He felt her trembling, heard her cries, but he couldn't stop to comfort her. Not now. All he could do was run. Run from the falling wreckage, from the devastation around them.
Flames licked at the sky, black smoke billowing upward in thick, suffocating clouds. The acrid stench of burning fuel and metal filled his lungs, but he pressed on, weaving through the panicked crowd.
A twisted piece of metal crashed into the ground mere feet from them, spraying the pavement with sparks. Oliver stumbled, nearly losing his grip on Sophia, but he recovered, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
He didn't stop. He couldn't stop.
Finally, they reached the edge of the terminal, the safety of the outside world just beyond the glass doors. Oliver's legs burned, his muscles screaming in protest, but he pushed through, kicking open the door and rushing out into the open air.
He collapsed onto the pavement, clutching Sophia tightly to his chest. She was sobbing, her small body trembling uncontrollably. Oliver held her close, his breath coming in sharp, painful gasps as he tried to process what had just happened.
The plane. Natalie. Gone.
He didn't know how long they sat there, huddled together on the cold ground. Time seemed to stretch endlessly, each second an eternity of shock and grief. The sounds of sirens wailed in the distance, and the acrid smell of smoke clung to the air.
But nothing mattered.
Not the chaos around them. Not the screams of the people still running for safety.
Nothing mattered except the horrible, unshakable truth.
Natalie was gone. His wife, the mother of his child, was gone. Just like that. In an instant.
The blinding light of the explosion had snuffed her out of existence, and now all that remained were the broken pieces of a life they would never get back.
Oliver's arms tightened around Sophia, his breath shaky as he whispered, "It's going to be okay. I promise, it's going to be okay."
But even as he said the words, he wasn't sure he believed them.
Because nothing would ever be okay again.
---