They mocked the woman in seat 22C—until two fighter jets aligned with her window, and a pilot spoke her name in a way that made the entire plane forget how to breathe.

like a habit had been interrupted mid-thought.

Maybe it was coincidence.

Maybe not.

On that second flight, a little girl across the aisle kept looking at Olivia’s hoodie, then her face, then the tote bag, as if trying to solve something she couldn’t quite name. Finally she leaned toward her father and whispered, not quietly enough, “Do you think she’s continue reading …