He typed four quick key combinations, his eyes running down two columns of green text on his monitor.

“The scheduled direct flight to Chicago leaves at eight fifteen this morning,” he said.

“That gets you into Ohio by a quarter to three tomorrow afternoon.”

“I can’t wait until eight o’clock,” I said.

“My nine-year-old daughter is across the street from my house in twenty-two-degree cold.”

The agent stopped typing, his fingers hovering over the keys for a second before he pressed the function key twice.

“There’s a feeder flight to Frankfurt at five ten,” he said, leaning closer to the microphone set into the glass partition.