At the airport, my father scoffed loudly, “She probably can’t even buy a basic economy seat.” My stepsister doubled over laughing as they proudly waved their first-class tickets in my face. I didn’t argue. I didn’t explain. I simply stood there—quiet, tired, and used to their insults. Then a uniformed airport staff member walked up to me and said clearly, “Ms. Monroe, your private jet is ready for boarding.” And just like that, the entire terminal went silent.
Ava Monroe hurried through the crowded terminal of LAX, clutching her worn backpack and scanning the departure board. She was flying to New York for […]
