There was a noise from behind him. Thad spun around. “Is anybody there?” he asked, hoping not to hear a response. None came. He adjusted the flashlight to project a wider beam, then waved it around, trying to illuminate as much of the compartment as he could.

The plane shook, and a pile of bags fell over. Thad’s heartbeat tripled. He made his way over to the hatch and secured the release handle, fearing that somehow the door mechanisms would fail and the door would fly off into space. With the release handle in place, the hatch stopped beeping. The dullness of the engine roar took over until again he heard a noise—a scraping, scratching sound— coming from behind him.

“If there’s someone down here, you need to come out right now!” he yelled, turning to face whatever monster was trapped in the cargo hold with him. He’d heard stories of animals getting loose: cats, dogs, snakes. Once an attendant even claimed a baby black bear escaped its cage and trashed every bag in sight.

Lies, Thad told himself. Just lies. He wondered why the flashlight beam was jumping to and fro until he noticed that his hands were shaking. Lies! Nothing’s down here!

He tried to remember the lessons he’d learned at a “panic school” he’d attended five years ago to overcome his fear of flying. Face your fears, they had told him. Face them head-on! Run toward your fears!Embrace them! And so he did. The next day he filled out an application to become a flight attendant, and he’d stuck with it ever since.

Face your fears!

He could see the beet-red face of his panic-school instructor bellowing at him to conquer this moment. He gripped the flashlight with two hands and pressed deeper into the luggage catacombs. The sound was coming from right in front of him. Thad got closer, squinting. He reached out and grabbed the handle of the suitcase, the only barrier between him and the creature on the other side.

He yanked the suitcase away, shrieked like a girl, and fainted.

Xandria tried to concentrate on the book in her hands. But she couldn’t shake the fear that gripped every thought as she waited for August to return. What would she do if he didn’t return? She put the possibility out of her mind. It wasn’t an option.

Her phone rang. It was Cornelius. She looked down the aisle for the fifth time in five minutes. Where was August? She should not pick up the phone without knowing precisely what her situation was. She held the phone like she was wringing the life from it. Finally, it died.

Cornelius would just have to wait. He wouldn’t be happy, but she could handle him. She could handle any man. After all, none of them could be worse than her father used to be.

Used to be.