“The forward cabin is typically reserved for principal clients and ownership guests.”
Amara almost smiled.
Ownership guests.
Interesting phrase.
“And what am I?”
“A corporate reposition passenger.”
Amara nodded.
“Correct.”
“That does not carry the same priority.”
“According to which policy?”
Evelyn’s expression changed.
Only slightly.
But Amara saw it.
People who relied on confidence instead of actual rules often disliked being asked for the rule.
Evelyn straightened.
“Cabin management discretion.”
“That’s not a policy.”
“It is on my aircraft.”
There it was.
Amara looked around the cabin.
Her aircraft.
She considered correcting the phrase.
Instead, she asked, “Who is the other passenger?”
Evelyn’s patience snapped.
“I already told you that is not your concern.”
The younger flight attendant looked over.
Amara noticed.
So did Evelyn.
“Return to the galley,” Evelyn said sharply.
The younger woman obeyed.
Amara remained seated.
Evelyn folded her arms.
“Move.”
“No.”
For several seconds, neither woman spoke.
Then Evelyn reached toward the neighboring seat.
Amara’s handbag rested there.
Evelyn grabbed it.
Amara’s eyes sharpened.
“Don’t.”
Evelyn lifted the bag.
“Your belongings can move with you.”
“Put that down.”
Instead, Evelyn tossed it into the aisle.
The bag struck the carpet and rolled against the base of another seat.
A lipstick and a slim leather card case slipped through the partially open clasp.
The younger flight attendant gasped.
Amara did not move.
Something inside her became very still.
Evelyn pointed toward the rear.
“I said move.”
Amara looked at her handbag.
Then at Evelyn.
“Pick it up.”
Evelyn laughed.
It was quiet.
Almost amused.
“Excuse me?”
“You threw my property on the floor. Pick it up.”
“You should be more concerned about following instructions.”
Amara’s voice remained level.
“Pick up my bag.”
Evelyn stepped closer.
“You corporate freeloaders are all the same.”
The younger attendant stared.
Amara’s expression did not change.
Evelyn continued.
“You catch an empty leg and suddenly think you belong wherever the paying passengers sit.”
Amara slowly rose.
She was nearly the same height as Evelyn in heels.
Evelyn seemed surprised.
Amara pointed toward the bag.
“Pick it up.”
Instead, Evelyn reached out and brushed one of the oversized fur sleeves away from her.
The gesture was small.
Contemptuous.
Personal.
“Don’t perform for me in that ridiculous costume.”
Amara looked down at the hand touching her coat.
Then back at Evelyn.
“Take your hand off me.”
Evelyn’s lips curved.
“Or what?”
Amara’s answer was quiet.
“You won’t like what happens next.”
Evelyn slapped her.
Hard.
The sound cracked through the cabin.
The younger flight attendant froze.
Amara’s head turned with the impact.
For one second, there was no movement at all.
Outside, snow continued falling.
Inside, only the ventilation system made noise.
Amara felt heat bloom across her cheek.
Her first instinct was physical.