People nearby were staring.
After everything Caleb had survived, this man had made him think the simplest solution was for him to disappear.
“No,” I said softly. “We can’t.”
Then a voice behind us said, “You. Stand up. Now.”
Everyone turned.
An elderly woman sat one row behind us.
“You. Stand up. Now.”
She was small, with silver hair and a plain gray cardigan buttoned to her throat.
An old metal lunchbox rested on her knees.
She hadn’t raised her voice. She didn’t look angry, either.
But the usher stopped talking when she stood.
The man laughed.
“Oh, God. Now what?”
An old metal lunchbox rested on her knees.
The woman stood carefully.
She picked up the lunchbox.
“I’ve got something better for you than this view.”
He looked at it.
“What, your sandwich?”
“Open it.”
The woman stood carefully.
He took the lunchbox and flipped the old metal latch.
