If you receive this log, do not look for us. Do not follow the coordinates. And for the love of God, do not unfasten your seatbelt.

But turbulence doesn’t leave a captain’s wristwatch on the floor of a locked lavatory, still ticking. Turbulence doesn’t fold a uniform jacket neatly over the toilet lid, as if the body inside it simply evaporated.

I looked out the left window. The stars are gone. All of them. Just a flat, velvet dark, like the sky has been painted over.

Now the cabin lights are flickering. Portuguese, English, and a third language I don’t recognize are cycling through the PA system. The third one sounds like consonants folding in on themselves. The passengers are screaming.