For the first time, she seemed to understand that the issue wasn't simply whether the new CEO would be angry with her.
It was whether she'd allowed a passenger to be mistreated because another passenger had influence.
Ground operations contacted the airport's passenger services supervisor.
The supervisor reviewed the available records, spoke with the captain, and arranged for the reported physical altercation to be addressed before departure.
Caroline was informed that she would not be traveling on Flight 617.
Her reaction was immediate.
"What?"
The supervisor stood beside her seat.
"Mrs. Prescott, we need you to accompany us off the aircraft."
She stared.
"Absolutely not."
The woman adjusted her pearl necklace.
"My luggage is already loaded. My husband's company has a major contract with this airline."
The supervisor kept his voice calm.
"I understand. The present issue concerns your conduct during boarding and an unresolved safety incident."
Caroline pointed toward me.
"That man started it."
I remained seated across the aisle, holding a bottle of water Nina had provided.
For a moment, Caroline looked toward the captain.
"Are you going to let this happen?"
Avery nodded toward the supervisor.
"Ma'am, the ground team is handling the next steps. We need you to follow their instructions."
Her face reddened.
She stood.
Then turned toward me.
"You think you've won?"
I looked up.
For several seconds, I considered how to answer.
Then I said, "This isn't a contest."
Caroline laughed bitterly.
"Of course you'd say that."
She pointed toward my hoodie.
"You couldn't afford to be here without someone giving you a favor."
The cabin went silent.
I looked directly at her.
"Ma'am, my ticket was purchased and confirmed."
She opened her mouth.
But the supervisor raised one hand.
"Mrs. Prescott, please stop addressing the other passenger."
She turned sharply.
"Do you know who I am?"
The supervisor remained calm.
"Yes, ma'am. We have your identification and reservation information."
Several passengers lowered their eyes.
One man near the aisle seemed to be suppressing a smile.
But I didn't feel amused.
I was exhausted.
My legs were sore.
And the smell of coffee still clung to my hoodie and the damp clothes sealed inside a plastic bag.
I wanted the situation to end.
Caroline looked toward the flight attendants.
No one defended her.
Then she seized her handbag from the overhead compartment.
"You're going to regret this."
The supervisor stepped aside.
"Please come with us."
She walked toward the exit, her heels striking the cabin floor.
At the door, she stopped.
Turned.
And looked directly at me.
For a moment, I saw something besides anger in her expression.
Fear.
Not of me.