“You’ll regret this,” he muttered under his breath.

I didn’t know it yet, but those words were about to turn my peaceful flight into a war zone.

It started with the coughing—not a little throat-clearing, but loud, hacking fits that made me wonder if I should grab a mask.

“You alright, Torin?” I asked, trying to stay calm.

He shot me a look that could sour milk. “Never better,” he wheezed, then launched into another fit.

Just as I was about to offer him a cough drop, Torin upped the game. He pulled out his tablet and started blasting an action movie, no headphones.

The couple across the aisle glared. “Hey, mate,” the man said. “Can you turn that down?”