A Poor Girl on a Plane
Twelve-year-old Amara Johnson sat nervously in the back row of a crowded flight from Atlanta to New York. Her shirt was worn, her sneakers coming apart at the seams. On her lap rested a faded backpack holding everything she owned—two old books, a broken phone, and a photograph of her late mother.
It was her very first time on a plane. The ticket wasn’t even hers—it had been donated by a charity so she could travel to Brooklyn and live with her aunt after losing her mom.
Most passengers didn’t notice the skinny girl sitting alone. They were busy with phones or neatly packed suitcases. Up in first class sat Richard Coleman, a billionaire real estate developer, often called “The Ice King” for his cold business style. He was on his way to an important investors’ meeting in New York.
Crisis at 30,000 Feet
Halfway through the flight, panic spread. Richard clutched his chest, gasping, his face drained of color. Passengers froze in fear while flight attendants rushed toward him, shouting:
“Is there a doctor on board?”
