Thirty-five thousand feet up, a young woman stood in the aisle with one hand stuck to her own head and murder on her mind.
She was pointing at me with the other one.
Every head in the cabin turned my way.
But two hours earlier, nothing in the world could have led to this.
***
Two hours earlier, I was standing in a duty-free line with a little present for my granddaughter.
The line was crawling. The reason stood right in front of me.
She was maybe twenty-eight, with blonde hair down to the back of her knees and a phone held at arm’s length.
The case said BRITTANY in rhinestones, in case she forgot.
“Okay, guys, help me choose. This one or this one?”
