For the first time since I had met her, Brittany seemed genuinely speechless.
Then she began pulling at the slime.
That made everything worse.
It stretched between her fingers and the extensions like melted candy. Her acrylic nails became coated in glittering pink residue.
She wiped her hand on her jeans.
The slime left a bright smear.
She rubbed her fingers against the armrest.
Another smear appeared.
Then she shook her head, and a thin strand of slime flicked against her cheek.
Her phone was still recording.
Her live audience was watching every second.
“YOU’RE A CRAZY OLD WOMAN!” she screamed.
Kelly hurried down the aisle.
“Ma’am, please sit down and lower your voice.”
“I WANT OFF THIS PLANE!”
Kelly looked at her calmly.
“We are at thirty-five thousand feet, ma’am. That is not possible.”
“I DON’T CARE! LOOK AT MY HAIR!”
The little boy covered his mouth again.
