The sound was thin and useless against the wall of her screaming, and the passenger in row three leaned forward.
“Please, Nora,” Henry muttered, his eyes fixed on her tiny, clenched fists.
The passenger in 2B cleared his throat loudly and pressed the overhead call button.
Henry reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his heavy gold business card, pressing the sharp corner of the metal card into his thumb.
Henry stared at his gold business card in his hand, feeling utterly powerless as Nora screams echoed through the cabin.
Henry slid the metal business card back into his pocket and pulled his laptop from his leather briefcase. On the screen was the thirty-two-page quarterly acquisition report for the Zurich expansion, the document George insisted needed his personal signature before Monday.
He tried to focus on the column of projected liabilities, but the numbers swam together on the white background. Nora’s screams rose to a sharp, breathless point that vibrated against the plastic windowpane of row two.
