The Third Seat
“Your… wife?” He opened his mouth and produced no words worth keeping.
“I — I told you we were separated,” he finally managed, barely above a whisper.
I laughed, short and without any warmth in it.
“That’s funny.
Last night he told me he was flying to Chicago for a three-day conference.” Dagny went white.
She looked down at her own boarding pass to Miami, then back at him.