I didn’t immediately notice that I wasn’t alone. In the darkest corner, huddled in a ball, sat an elderly woman. She wore an old but well-made coat, and her eyes were hidden by large, dark sunglasses—the kind people with visual impairments wore. Her head was bowed; she seemed to be sleeping.

Suddenly, the old woman stirred. She lifted her head and, without turning toward me, spoke in a dry, rasping voice. “Stop crying. Tears won’t help your troubles.” I jumped. “Husband dumped you?” she asked indifferently. I only managed a choked sob in reply.