“Is Oliver safe back there?” she asked.

“Your stuffed rabbit is perfectly safe,” I said.

“Let’s go sit down and get ready for takeoff.”

We walked back to row two.

Harrison Caldwell was leaning over his tray table, sorting through the scattered contents of his blue leather briefcase.

His junior assistant knelt in the aisle beside him, trying to put a thick stack of glossy real estate documents in order.

The assistant reached down to pick up a dropped folder lying on the carpet by my left foot.