The next morning, she waits for Justin to leave on his trip. She packs him lunch and kisses him on the cheek and apologizes for last night. He smiles at her understandingly but still tells her that he's going to telephone the bank when he gets to work and turn in her resignation. She smiles back at him and says it's probably for the best.

Then as he drives away, Courtney counts to sixty seconds in her mind. In sixty seconds, if she still wants to leave Justin, she'll do it. If she still wants to find Duncan and take a chance on him in sixty seconds with nothing telling her no, she'll do it.

In sixty seconds with her options weighed and her conscience clear, she won't go to work and she'll do it.

The thinnest hand go all the way around the watch face. Sixty seconds pass.

She walks back inside the house, puts on comfortable shoes, and walks into town.

At the front of the hairdressers, Courtney stares in the window. It's a salon she's never been to before, far from where anyone would recognize her. She watches the women inside gossip and work, while the barber shop next door boasts laughter and the smell of shaving cream. Nobody notices her.

Carefully, Courtney counts her money. It's enough for a haircut and a few trinkets if she's feeling practical. If she's feeling impractical, however, it's enough to paint the town red.

A woman passes her coming out of the hairdressers, her blonde hair freshly permed. Courtney eyes the look, but she's looking for something else.

She walks in and sits at a chair as the hairdresser asks, "What are you lookin' to get today, love?"

Courtney picks up a magazine. "That," she says, pointing to the flapper on the cover. "Make me look like that."

The hairdresser makes a face. "That's a lot of hair to cut off. Are you sure, Misus?"

Courtney takes off her hat and her tresses tumble down her back. "Yes."

"Because I think you shouldn't do anything so drastic without consultin' your husband first."

"My husband is fully aware," she says tightly, folding her hands to cover her ring.

"There's no going back from this, you know?"

"Yes, I know! Just—" Courtney snatches the scissors from the woman's side table and cuts a chunk of her own hair at the shoulder line. A foot of hair coils on the ground.

"All right! All right!" the woman says, taking the scissors back from Courtney. "You're serious, fine, I believe you. I'll do it right before you walk out of here like a mess and someone else thinks I did this to you. Hold still."

When Courtney walks out an hour later with a lighter head and a lighter heart, every single person on the street notices.

She goes to the seediest looking clothing store she finds. She buys herself a red dress, short and beaded, and fine fishnet stockings. At another store, she buys gloves and matching shoes and the man behind the counter won't stop staring at her as she saunters through the aisles.

When she smiles at him, demure and yet sly, he gives her a discount on her purchase.

At home, she turns her purse upside down and all the makeup she purchased spills into her sink. She tries everything out, all the colors, until something looks sexy enough. She props up a magazine to try and get the eyeliner right. When she does, she changes into her new clothes and parades around her room, feeling like a whole new person. She takes off her wedding ring and tosses it on her bed.

Then she goes to the kitchen, bringing with her a page of stationery from Justin's home office, and pulls over that morning's newspaper. On the stationery, she writes Justin a note explaining what she's done and where she plans to go. She seals the envelope and leaves it on the kitchen table under the fruit bowl. In the newspaper, she scans until she finds what she's looking for, then circles it in bright red lipstick.

Duncan Clyde's last known location.

Chicago.