Jonah chuckles softly. “Yeah, for sure. See you soon, Calla.” I try not to drag my feet as I head for the luggage carousel. Thankfully, the belt is churning out suitcases from the Chicago flight. I don’t see mine on the conveyor belt yet, so I stand and wait, my disappointment with being stuck in Anchorage for a night—sans Jonah—weighing heavily on my spirits. Thirty minutes later, long after the suitcases have stopped sliding down the shoot for my flight and the last of the passengers have wheeled their belongings away, I add “missing luggage” to my list of “things that went horribly wrong
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