James handed her the card slowly, as if giving her time to breathe.

It wasn’t flashy. No gold embossing. No job title screaming importance. Just a name, a phone number, and a small logo she didn’t recognize.

“I overheard more than I meant to,” he said gently. “Not eavesdropping. Just… listening.”

Rachel tightened her grip around Sophia, instinctively pulling her closer. Her nursing brain was already firing—Who is this man? Why is the crew deferential? Why does my chest feel like it’s collapsing and expanding at the same time?

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she said quickly. “I usually don’t—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” James interrupted softly. “You did something human.”

The flight attendant who had earlier scolded her now smiled warmly. “Your daughter slept the entire flight,” she said. “Honestly, she charmed the whole row.”

Sophia squealed, patting Rachel’s cheek, completely unaware that her mother’s life was teetering on the edge of change.

Rachel looked back at James. “You said you made calls.”

“Yes,” he replied. “And before you panic—nothing inappropriate. Just inquiries.”

“Inquiries about what?” Rachel asked, her voice barely steady.

James gestured toward her scrubs. “About nurses. About burnout. About how many leave the profession every year not because they stop caring, but because caring costs too much.”Rachel felt tears rise unexpectedly. She swallowed hard. “I’m just trying to get by,” she said. “I work nights. Double shifts. I can’t afford daycare half the time. My sitter quit yesterday—that’s why I’m flying home early. I didn’t mean for—”

“I know,” James said. “Because ten years ago, I watched someone like you.”

Rachel stilled.