worst possible scenario. Thank god, she thinks, thank god it didn’t happen. No doubt other passengers are saying the same. She’ll tell Sam about it, but they’ll move on to facts more significant to them both: what happened when she told Kevin about Adam, Adam about Kevin.

 

At midnight, sitting in the kitchen, mother and father dig their spoons into a slab of what looks like soiled snow—oreo cookie crumbs and melting vanilla ice cream—and do the same thing as Rebecca, playing out the disaster that might have been; it’s a common instinct, to face the worst once you know it hasn’t happened, purging your imagination. What if? Did you see her face? I thought that she.… they set down their spoons in unison and look at each other, smiling tremulously  and nodding to...

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