"Thank you for preserving what happened."
Then she turned back to Victoria.
"I think you should stop speaking to my daughter."
Victoria's face tightened.
"I had no idea she was your daughter."
The words escaped before she seemed to consider what they meant.
A terrible silence followed.
My mother looked at her.
"Would that have changed how you treated her?"
Victoria blinked.
"I only meant—"
"Would it?"
The woman stared.
For the first time, she had no quick answer.
I reached for my mother's sleeve.
"Mom."
She immediately looked down.
I shook my head slightly.
She understood.
I didn't want a public confrontation between a senator and a passenger to become the central story while everything that had happened to me was pushed into the background.
I wanted the airline to do its job.
I wanted the witnesses to be heard.
And I wanted Victoria to be held accountable because of her actions, not because she had accidentally targeted someone with a recognizable parent.
My mother placed one hand over mine.
"I'm here."
I nodded.
Then I whispered, "Please don't make any calls."
She frowned slightly.
"Amara—"
"Not to the airline president. Not to your office. Nobody."
She looked at me.
I swallowed.
"I want them to do what they would do if you weren't my mother."
For a long moment, she remained silent.
Then she nodded.
"All right."
I could see how difficult the promise was for her.
She was a mother standing beside a child who had just been humiliated.
Every instinct told her to intervene.
But she understood why I was asking.
She squeezed my hand.
"We'll use the ordinary process."
I nodded.
"Thank you."
She turned toward Elena.
"Please follow your procedures. My daughter will cooperate, and I expect the witnesses and recordings to be considered."
Elena looked relieved.
"Of course."
Then my mother glanced toward the boarding pass still in Victoria's hand.
"May I have her ticket?"
Victoria looked down.
She seemed surprised to discover she was still holding it.
For several seconds, she didn't move.
Then she reluctantly handed it over.
My mother examined the paper.
Her eyes stopped on the handwritten notation.
R.J. SAME PNR.
She looked toward Elena.