Then smiled.
It was technically a smile.
There was no warmth in it.
“I’m Evelyn Shaw. Senior cabin supervisor.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Evelyn turned without responding.
“Come aboard.”
Amara followed.
The cabin smelled faintly of leather, cedar, and fresh coffee.
Warm light illuminated cream-colored seats arranged in pairs.
Polished walnut surfaces reflected the soft ceiling lamps.
Someone had added small Christmas decorations near the galley: a miniature wreath, a few red ribbons, and a glass bowl filled with gold ornaments.
It was tasteful.
Expensive.
Exactly what Meridian Crown promised its clients.
Amara looked around carefully.
Seat stitching.
Carpet.
Galley organization.
Emergency equipment access.
She noticed everything automatically.
The younger attendant smiled.
“Can I take your coat?”
“No, thank you.”
Evelyn looked back.
“You’ll be more comfortable without it.”
“I’m fine.”
Evelyn’s mouth tightened.
“Suit yourself.”
Amara continued toward the forward cabin.
Her assigned seat was 2A.
Window.
Forward-facing.
It had been selected automatically by corporate travel.
Amara placed her handbag on the neighboring seat and sat down.
Outside the oval window, snow swirled through the blue ramp lights.
For the first time that day, she allowed herself to relax.
She had spent the morning negotiating a fuel-services acquisition.
The afternoon had been consumed by a labor dispute in Phoenix.
At four, a maintenance director called about a turbine inspection issue in Dallas.
At five-thirty, Amara had finally closed her laptop.
She wanted two quiet hours.
Nothing more.
Across the cabin, Evelyn whispered something to the younger flight attendant.
The younger woman’s eyes widened.
She shook her head slightly.
Evelyn’s expression hardened.
Then she walked toward Amara.
“Ms. Bennett.”
Amara turned from the window.
“Yes?”
“I need you to move.”
Amara glanced around.
“To where?”
“The rear cabin.”
“Why?”
Evelyn clasped her hands.
“This seat is reserved.”
Amara looked at the headrest.
No card.
No name.
Nothing.
“My boarding assignment is 2A.”
“I understand.”
“Then why would I move?”
Evelyn exhaled slowly.
“Because there has been a seating adjustment.”
“For whom?”
“That isn’t relevant.”
Amara held her gaze.
“It’s relevant if you’re asking me to give up the seat assigned to me.”
Evelyn’s eyes narrowed.
Most passengers, Amara suspected, would have moved already.
Not because Evelyn had explained anything.
Because of the tone.
It was the tone of someone accustomed to turning confidence into authority.
Evelyn leaned closer.
“We have another passenger arriving shortly.”
“Then I assume they have an assigned seat.”
“They do.”
“Good.”
Amara turned back toward the window.
The conversation should have ended there.
It did not.
“Ms. Bennett.”
Amara looked at her again.
Evelyn’s voice became quieter.
“You need to move to the back.”
“No.”
The single word seemed to offend her.
Evelyn looked toward the younger attendant.
The young woman suddenly became very interested in reorganizing glasses.
Evelyn returned her attention to Amara.
“Perhaps you misunderstood.”
“I didn’t.”