Two passengers looked toward each other.
Jennifer frowned.
“What are you talking about?”
Amara extended one gloved hand.
The captain returned the credential.
He lowered his voice.
“I did not know you were on this flight.”
“That was intentional.”
Jennifer laughed.
“Of course it was.”
Nobody joined her.
Captain Reynolds looked at the damaged credential.
“Aviation Review Commission.”
Jennifer’s smile weakened.
“What is that?”
Amara placed the wallet carefully on the table.
The captain answered.
“The independent federal-chartered authority conducting our current passenger-protection and operational-compliance review.”
Jennifer stared.
He continued.
“Senior Director Washington leads the review division.”
Someone behind them whispered, “Oh my God.”
Jennifer looked from the captain to Amara.
“You’re an inspector?”
Amara picked up her handbag.
“No.”
For one second, Jennifer’s shoulders loosened.
Then Amara stood fully upright.
“I’m the person the inspection team reports to.”
The relief disappeared.
Captain Reynolds started to speak.
“Director Washington, I am deeply—”
“Don’t apologize yet.”
He stopped.
Amara looked past him toward the forward galley.
Then up.
A small cabin-security camera sat above the partition near the boarding door.
“Preserve every available recording from the moment boarding began.”
Captain Reynolds nodded.
“Yes.”
“Passenger videos too, if they volunteer them.”
The man in 1D said immediately:
“I have everything from before the first shove.”
Another passenger raised her phone.
“I have the slap.”
Jennifer stepped back.
“You can’t order people to surrender their phones.”
Amara looked at her.
“I didn’t.”
She turned to the passengers.
“Please preserve your original files.”
“Do not edit them.”
“Do not delete metadata.”
“If investigators request copies, you may choose whether to provide them.”
The man nodded.
Jennifer’s face tightened.
Amara looked at Captain Reynolds.
“Do not classify the cabin footage under routine customer-service retention.”
“Preserve it as potential evidence.”
“Yes, Director.”
Jennifer took another step backward.
“This is absurd.”
Then Amara noticed Rachel.
The attendant was staring at Jennifer.
Not with shock anymore.
Recognition.
And fear.
Amara had spent twenty-two years interviewing people who were afraid of consequences.
She knew the posture.
Shoulders slightly drawn in.
Jaw tight.
Eyes moving once toward the nearest manager before returning to the person they feared.
Jennifer saw it too.
Her voice changed.
“Rachel.”
Just the name.
Quiet.
Warning.
Rachel’s hands began shaking.
Amara looked at her.
“You know Mrs. Collins.”
Rachel did not answer.
Jennifer said: