It ends at the airport, three days later. Sara had re-printed her itinerary. She had a new binder. She was leaving for Frankfurt.
Brazil is not a country you visit. It is a country you survive with a smile. The World Cup is not a tournament. It is a permission slip to be your loudest, drunkest, most emotional self.
But Mike had lost the tickets.
"You did WHAT?!" she screamed, her German efficiency finally snapping.