My second suggestion was that we each take only a carry-on bag. No checked bag meant we were going to have to rough it, but it also gave us more freedom of movement, particularly in the airports, where Sabrina would be more likely to be recognized.

The flight to Miami was uncomfortable enough for Sabrina. She was convinced that everyone on the plane recognized her, a paranoia that wasn't totally baseless. She had chosen not to radically change her appearance for the flight—her attempt at rebellion. She was regretting the decision by the time we arrived at the gate. I knew she was recognized by a half a dozen or so of the passengers—which meant, of course, that by the time we landed in Miami most of the plane knew. We had seats in the second row so we could be off the plane the moment the doors opened.

We were standing up waiting to exit the plane when we heard from somewhere in the middle of the plane, "We love you, Sabrina," whereupon the rest of the passengers broke out in a spontaneous applause. Sabrina turned bright red and looked at me, as if to say, "What should I do?" I gave her a nod to say it was okay. It seemed to reassure her. She gave the passengers a shy smile and wave, and said "thank you" in a small voice.

When we reached the end of the gateway, the two photographers were waiting for us. How did they get through security? It occurred to me later that they must have bought tickets to a flight just to allow them access to the gate. Diabolical. I had to give them credit though, they were determined.

We never heard the press conference by her agent, although we knew what he was going to say, but he must have been effective as he gave her history and emphasized her shyness and need for privacy. Sabrina was someone who was easy to root for, and let's face it, people were tired of abuse. Her story must have resonated with people all over the country. So when our fellow passengers exited the plane and saw the cameras in Sabrina's face, they took action. They could smell sleaze a mile away. As a single body they moved in and wedged themselves between Sabrina and the photographers. Nothing was said, but the message was clear: Leave her alone. That gave us a clear exit. As we scurried away, I turned and shouted out, "Thank you, guys!"

We were free. We jumped into the first taxi available and were delivered safely to our hotel. It was only going to be our sanctuary for a few hours, but it was enough to give us some space.

We didn't sleep, but it was a chance to shower and prepare for the second leg. I didn't bring up the incident in the airport. I didn't want to belabor the obvious: that not everyone is out for themselves. It was going to have to sink in on its own.