She scanned him slowly, deliberately.
“Sweetheart,” she replied with thinly veiled disdain, “first class is at the front. Economy is in the back.”
Nearby passengers began to watch.
Phones came out.
Whispers spread.
The Crew Takes a Position
A flight attendant rushed over—Emily, mid-thirties, composed smile already in place.
“Is everything alright here?” she asked, her hand settling reassuringly on the woman’s arm.
“This man took my seat,” the woman said loudly. “I need him removed so we can leave.”
Daniel extended his boarding pass.
“Seat 1A,” he said. “That’s mine.”
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