I sighed.
"You've heard?"
She nodded.
"Captain Avery submitted a preliminary report. The incident has already been escalated through operations."
I looked toward her.
"Good."
Nora studied me.
For several seconds, she seemed concerned.
Then said, "We can postpone the announcement if you need time."
I shook my head.
"No."
She raised an eyebrow.
I continued.
"I accepted this job knowing the company had problems. Yesterday just showed me one of them personally."
Nora nodded slowly.
Then asked, "What do you want to do?"
I looked toward the conference-room doors.
For a moment, I considered the simplest answer.
Fire everyone involved.
Make an announcement.
Turn Caroline's public humiliation into a corporate victory.
But I knew that would be wrong.
A passenger's rights shouldn't depend on whether the next CEO happened to be sitting in the affected seat.
So I took a breath.
"I want an independent investigation of the incident, and I want to be recused from decisions concerning my own complaint."
Nora studied me.
Then smiled faintly.
"That's a good start."
I continued.
"And I want a review of every manual premium-seat override made under this priority accommodation process."
Her expression changed.
"Every one?"
I nodded.
"Yes."
For several seconds, she was quiet.
Then she looked toward the boardroom.
"That could become complicated."
I held her gaze.
"Then we'd better find out how complicated."
The first formal meeting began at nine.
Sixteen senior executives and board representatives sat around a long conference table. Some had worked for Crestline for more than twenty years. Others had joined during the restructuring, bringing experience from aviation finance, technology, safety, and labor relations.
Nora introduced me.
She discussed my work at ClearPath Systems, the company's modernization plans, and the responsibilities I'd be assuming during the leadership transition.
Then she invited me to speak.
I stood.
For a moment, I looked around the table.
These were experienced professionals.
People who understood fleet costs, aircraft maintenance, route profitability, and the complicated legal obligations of running an airline.
I respected that knowledge.
And I knew I would need it.
But I also knew that expertise could become dangerous when people started treating their own assumptions as unquestionable.
So I began with a question.
"How many of you know what happened on Flight 617 yesterday?"
Several hands rose.
Others looked uncomfortable.
I nodded.
"Good. Then you know I was involved in a passenger dispute."
The chief operating officer, Richard Barlow, leaned forward.
"We're deeply sorry, Elias. I've already spoken to the station management team."
He was fifty-six, a polished executive with silver hair and a calm manner that made even bad news sound manageable.