<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t want to sit next to that\u2026 woman!\u201d Franklin Delaney almost shouted when the flight attendant tried to settle an elderly woman beside him.<\/p>\n
\u201cSir, this is her seat. There\u2019s nothing we can do,\u201d the attendant said gently.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat can\u2019t be true! These seats are expensive\u2014she couldn\u2019t afford one! Look at her clothes!\u201d he barked. Stella felt a flush of shame; she was wearing her only nice outfit and hated the assumption it was cheap.<\/p>\n
Other business-class passengers turned to gape, and Stella, humiliated, looked down. The uproar delayed boarding until more attendants arrived to manage the scene.<\/p>\n
\u201cMiss, if there\u2019s another seat in economy, I\u2019ll take it. I spent all my savings on this, but I don\u2019t want to cause trouble,\u201d Stella said, goodwill in her tone. She had needed help navigating the confusing Seattle airport\u2014she was 85 and this was her first time traveling. Thankfully, an attendant had escorted her through the airport to the gate.<\/p>\n
Another stewardess stood firm beside her: \u201cNo, ma\u2019am. You paid for this seat\u2014nobody can say otherwise.\u201d She threatened to call security, prompting Franklin to relent.<\/p>\n
Once seated, Stella dropped her purse in fright. Franklin helped retrieve it\u2014and whistled at a ruby locket: \u201cThat\u2019s something else\u2014real rubies?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy father gave it to my mother before WWII. She passed it to me,\u201d Stella replied. Franklin softened. \u201cI\u2019m Franklin Delaney. I\u2019m sorry for earlier. I\u2019ve got my own troubles. What happened to your father?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe was a fighter pilot. He left when I was four\u2014and never returned,\u201d Stella said, pain in her voice. She shared how wartime hardship haunted her mother, yet she cherished the locket\u2019s sentimental<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"