The overhead compartment clicked shut just as the turbulence hit. Laura's fingers lingered on the cold metal latch, her swollen belly pressing into the seatback in front of her. Across the aisle, the woman with the French twist was watching Laura's fingers tremble. "You're leaking," she murmured, nodding toward the darkening patches on Laura's blouse. The airplane hummed around them, drowning out everything but the woman'...