The wink was information.
Something was happening.
I had no idea what.
Then I heard the woman say, loudly, the loudly of someone who is not choosing their volume: what is that?
What is that?
The flight attendant appeared.
She moved toward Rose’s row with the speed of someone responding to something.
I heard Rose’s voice, very calm, saying: there’s no need to make a fuss.
The woman said: I am soaking wet. What did you do?
Her voice was the voice of someone who is genuinely distressed and who is also beginning to understand the dimensions of what has happened.
I unclipped my seatbelt.
I walked up the aisle.
The flight attendant reached the row just before I did.
I looked.
The woman was wet.
Not soaking entirely.
Significantly wet.
On her sleeve.
Her side.
Her lap.
Rose was sitting in her seat with her hands folded and her expression was the expression of a woman who has not done anything wrong.
