At 30,000 Feet, I Watched My Wife Crawl Across the Floor With Both Legs in Casts While My Mother Hid Her Crutches—Then I Noticed What Was Recording Behind Them

No luggage.

Suit jacket wrinkled.

Phone nearly dead.

The Sunday dinner had been canceled.

Clara lay on the living-room sofa with both legs elevated.

Sarah sat beside her.

My mother appeared in the hallway.

“Finally.”