Then Emma’s voice rose over the steady hum of the engines.
“Ma’am, my mother taught me that embarrassing someone in front of strangers is wrong.”
The sentence was calm.
That
She hadn’t shouted.
She hadn’t insulted the woman.
She had spoken clearly enough that the nearby rows could hear her, and suddenly several heads turned toward row eleven.
My stomach tightened.
I couldn’t see Emma’s whole face from where I was sitting, so I leaned slightly, trying to understand what she was doing.
Emma continued.
“That’s why I tried to tell you quietly before the plane took off.”
The
woman turned toward her.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Then you should keep quiet now,” she said.
Emma didn’t.
