Kayla was completely drained—emotionally exhausted, physically spent, and six months pregnant—after saying goodbye to her beloved grandmother, the steady anchor in her life.

All she wanted was the comfort of her own bed, yet she had to return home. As she packed her suitcase, her mother stood in the doorway with hesitant eyes and gently asked, “Are you sure you want to leave today? You could stay longer and take your time to process everything.” With a wistful smile, Kayla replied, “I wish I could, but I need to get back. Colin’s lost without me, and work won’t wait.” Her mother nodded, adding,

“Your father and I will be here a few more days sorting through your grandmother’s things. I only wish she could have met the baby.” Kayla pressed a hand to her growing belly and swallowed the lump rising in her throat, steeling herself for the journey ahead.

At the airport, as she navigated long, winding lines, she reminded herself that a short flight was far better than a long, uncomfortable drive, especially given her condition. Once aboard the plane, she sighed with relief when a flight attendant kindly offered to stow her carry-on, though the woman beside her complained about hating both flying and driving, remarking that she should have just stayed home.

Kayla chuckled in agreement. As the plane’s engines roared and it began its ascent, Kayla closed her eyes, yearning for a moment of peace. Yet an inexplicable presence made her open her eyes, and she noticed a man three rows back staring at her with an intense, unsettling gaze that made her heart skip a beat.

Trying to dismiss the feeling as mere paranoia, she looked away, but the sensation of being watched lingered. About ten minutes into the flight, a flight attendant with a blank expression approached and said curtly, “Ma’am, please come with me.” With no time for questions, Kayla unbuckled her seatbelt and followed the attendant to a quiet corner near the restroom. Once out of earshot, the attendant’s tone shifted abruptly as she ordered, “Get on your knees.

Now.” Frozen in shock, Kayla stammered, “What? Why? What’s going on?” but the command allowed no argument, and fear surged through her as she slowly knelt, her heart pounding in her chest. Suddenly, the man who had been watching stepped forward, his calm yet authoritative voice demanding, “Where is the golden necklace you stole?” Kayla’s breath caught in her throat as she protested, “What?

I don’t know what you’re talking about! I just came from my grandmother’s funeral!” The man produced blurry photographs and documents, thrusting them before her as he said, “This is you at the museum two days ago, and this—” he pointed to another image, “—is you at the hotel where the necklace disappeared. We’ve tracked you here.” Staring at the images, Kayla noticed that although the woman resembled her, she sported a tattoo on her wrist—a feature she did not have. “Wait! That woman has a tattoo on her wrist. I don’t have any tattoos, and I’m six months pregnant! That isn’t me!” she exclaimed. The man grabbed her wrist with a cold grip and retorted, “You could be hiding it with makeup. And pregnancy? That might be a disguise.” Terror flooded her, not only for herself but for her unborn baby, and then she felt a firm kick against her belly. Instinctively, she pressed his hand on her stomach and declared, “You can’t fake this.” After a long pause, the man sighed and softened, admitting, “I…I’m sorry. You look just like her. I was convinced.” Relief began to seep into Kayla’s heart, but the nightmare was far from over. A click shattered the silence as the attendant drew a gun and shouted, “Enough! Hands behind your backs!” A detective intervened, arresting her, while Colin met Kayla at the gate, bouquet, saying, “Welcome home.”