It just didn’t make sense. Despite her perfect hourglass figure (and willingness to show it off in scant bikinis), her Hollywood looks, her brains, style, and overall pleasant demeanor, Charlotte just couldn’t seem to keep a man.

Then again, perhaps it made all the sense in the world. Perhaps (and this was merely a theory, first posited by Millie, the voice in Charlott’es head that all too often commanded her to kill) it had something to do with the fact that she had a habit of waving at every plane that passed overhead, morning, noon, and night, convinced that each of their passengers was waving back at her, sporting the same shit-eating grin as her own.

plane