Impressions

Luke

With Sophia’s hand in mine, I felt like I could take over the world. Her small hand offered me the reassurance that I wasn’t going into this weekend alone. From the window, I saw Mother already had her passive expression on, the one that silently judged. She never thought I could make a decision when it came to my personal life. Yet none of her setups in the past had panned out.

“Do I need a headscarf?” Sophia asked when we were near the door.

I hesitated. It would give Mother a good impression.

I opened my mouth to say something when one of the flight attendants, a woman, came forward holding two scarves in her hands. “These are mine. Pick one.”

She wasn’t from my country, but she probably visited quite often if she was a frequent flier on Father’s private jet.

I picked the light blue one and thanked her as I quickly wrapped it around Sophia’s head. “There.”

“How do I look?” Sophia asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Perfect,” I said, tracing my thumb down her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered