David Winkler studies the clouds and birds near the tarmac of the airport as he prepares to board a plane. He’s nervous as he boards. He takes a window seat and stares out the window as the plane takes off, watching as the familiar sights of the island they’re leaving recede. The woman beside him takes out a novel and begins to read. The window frosts over.

Winkler is 59 years old and is returning to Cleveland, Ohio, from Kingstown, St. Vincent, for the first time in 25 years. He looks around the plane and notes that most of the passengers appear to be American, including the couple seated beside him. Winkler drifts off to sleep, and the woman beside him wakes him with a gentle shake of his shoulder. He warns her that the luggage compartment above her isn’t latched and will pop open. The woman asks her companion about it, and he tells her it’s fine. Winkler doesn’t push the issue, but a moment later, the plane hits some turbulence and the compartment pops open, causing one of the couple’s bags to fall. Something inside breaks.