The overnight flight from Chicago to London carried 243 passengers across the Atlantic like a quiet secret.
Most of the cabin was asleep—heads tilted against headrests, thin airline blankets pulled up to chins, seatback screens throwing that soft blue glow onto faces that weren’t really watching anything. In 8A, a Black man in a wrinkled gray sweater slept with his temple pressed to the cold oval window, his reflection faint against the endless dark outside.
