The airport was colder than usual, or maybe it just felt that way because of the way people stared. Carla kept her head down, gripping her boarding pass tightly as if it were the only thing keeping her together. She had gotten used to the stares by now, but they still hurt. People didn’t see her anymore—they only saw the scar.
It had been a month since the accident. A car crash had changed everything in a split second. Carla had been a passenger, and when the airbag deployed, a shard of glass sliced across her face. The doctors had done their best, stitching her up with precision, but they couldn’t stop the jagged scar from forming.
Her dermatologist called it “early scar tissue”—raw, shiny, and red. The scar stretched from an inch above her hairline, down her brow, across her cheek, and ended near her jawline. A part of her eyebrow would never grow back. Her cheek had a small indentation where the cut had been the deepest.
For weeks, she had worn bandages, avoiding mirrors, avoiding people. When the bandages finally came off, she had no choice but to face the new reality. Her friends had tried to lift her spirits, calling it “badass” or even “mysterious in a sexy way.” She tried to believe them, but it was hard when strangers stared too long or looked away too quickly.
Healing was slow and painful. Every morning, she carefully applied the creams and ointments her dermatologist had recommended, keeping the skin clean and hydrated. But no matter how much care she took, the scar remained. It wasn’t something she could hide—not really. It would fade over time, but it would never disappear completely. That thought sat heavy in her chest.
Now, as she walked to her seat on the plane, she could feel the weight of every gaze on her. She slipped into the window seat, her heart racing. At least she had boarded early, avoiding the worst of the crowd. She put on her headphones, letting the music drown out her nerves. Closing her eyes, she wished for a peaceful, uneventful flight.
But peace never lasted long.
She was startled awake by the sound of voices—loud and irritated.
“You have got to be kidding me,” a man grumbled. “These are our seats?”
“Row 5B and 5C,” a woman responded, her voice clipped and impatient. “It’s fine. Just sit down.”
There was shuffling, followed by an annoyed sigh. Carla kept her eyes closed, hoping they’d just settle in and leave her alone.
“I don’t believe this,” the man muttered. “We pay for this flight, and this is what we get? Last-minute seats next to—”
He stopped abruptly.
“Next to what?” the woman asked, her voice rising. Then, she let out a disgusted sound. “Oh.”
Carla’s skin prickled. She could feel them staring at her.
“You’ve got to be joking,” the woman whispered, but not quietly enough.
Carla stayed still, her heart pounding. Please, just let it go.
But the man wasn’t done. “Hey, lady!” he snapped.
Carla opened her eyes slowly and turned toward him. He flinched, then scowled. “Can’t you cover that up or something?”
For a moment, Carla just blinked, too stunned to respond.
“Tom!” the woman hissed, pulling her sweater up over her nose. “That’s disgusting. How did they even let her board like that?”
“Exactly!” Tom leaned forward, pointing a finger at her. “This is a public place, you know? People don’t need to see… that.“
Carla’s face burned with humiliation. She opened her mouth to say something, to explain, to tell them she hadn’t chosen this—but no words came out.
The woman scoffed. “Are you just going to sit there? Unbelievable.”
Tom leaned into the aisle, waving down a flight attendant. “Hey! Can you do something about this? My girlfriend is freaking out.”
The flight attendant arrived, her expression professional but firm. “Is there a problem, sir?”
“Yeah, there’s a problem!” Tom barked. “Look at her!” He jabbed his thumb toward Carla. “It’s upsetting my girlfriend. Can you move her to the back or something?”
The attendant’s eyes flickered to Carla. Her face softened, but she quickly turned back to the man. “Sir, all passengers are entitled to their seats. Is there something else I can help you with?”
“I just told you!” Tom snapped. “She’s sitting there looking like that. It’s gross. She should have to cover it up or move.”
“I can’t even look at her,” the woman whined. “I’ll throw up.”
The flight attendant straightened, her voice cool and authoritative. “Sir, ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to lower your voices. This kind of behavior is unacceptable.”
“Behavior?” Tom scoffed. “What about her behavior? It’s inconsiderate! She’s scaring people!”
The attendant ignored him and turned to Carla. “Miss, are you okay?”
Carla nodded stiffly, biting the inside of her cheek to stop the tears from forming.
“I’ll be right back,” the attendant said before walking toward the cockpit.
Tom leaned back in his seat, grumbling under his breath. His girlfriend crossed her arms, glaring at the aisle. Carla stared out the window, wishing she could disappear.
A moment later, the intercom crackled.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We’ve been made aware of behavior that does not align with the respectful environment we strive to maintain on this flight. Let me remind everyone that harassment or discrimination of any kind will not be tolerated. Please treat your fellow passengers with dignity.”
A ripple of murmurs spread through the cabin. People turned toward row 5. Across the aisle, a passenger shook their head in disapproval.
The flight attendant returned, standing tall. “Mr. and Ms., I’ll need you to move to seats 22B and 22C at the back of the plane.”
Tom’s face twisted in disbelief. “What?! We’re not moving!”
“Sir,” the flight attendant’s voice was firm. “This is not negotiable. Your behavior has disrupted the flight. Please gather your belongings.”
The woman’s face burned red. “This is ridiculous! Why are we the ones being punished? She’s the one causing the problem!”
“Ma’am, your new seats are waiting. Please move now.”
Tom muttered angrily as he grabbed his bag. His girlfriend followed, yanking her purse over her shoulder. Passengers watched silently, some shaking their heads.
Then, a single clap rang out. Then another. And another. Applause rippled through the cabin. Carla bit her lip, overwhelmed—not from shame this time, but from something else entirely.
The flight attendant turned to her, her expression gentle. “Miss, I want to apologize. No one should have to go through that.”
Carla nodded, still unable to speak.
“We have an open seat in business class,” she added. “We’d love to move you there, as a gesture of goodwill. Would that be alright?”
Carla hesitated. “I don’t want to cause trouble.”
“You’re not causing trouble,” the attendant reassured her. “Please, let us take care of you.”
Carla nodded, whispering, “Thank you.”
As she settled into her new seat, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Looking out at the endless sky, she felt something she hadn’t in weeks: hope.
