Clara settled into the first-class seat and closed the shade on the land they were about to depart. She shook a single ten-milligram pill from its container and tossed it to the back of her throat as the stewardess handed her a glass of Chardonnay. Tipping it to her lips, she washed down the pill, then handed back the empty glass and pulled the blanket up around her neck.
“If we’re about to crash, please don’t wake me.”
And no one did.