I watched the attendant’s face.
She looked at the item.
Then she looked at the woman.
Then back at the item again.
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The woman shifted slightly in the seat she had fought so hard to keep.
Nobody nearby was complaining about the delay now.
The oversized
handbag still occupied part of her space.
Her coat was still beside her.
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Her shoes had been removed as though she
had expected to spend the flight entirely undisturbed.
But the comfort she had defended so aggressively was gone.
Emma stood beside the row with both feet planted in the aisle, still holding the object carefully while the flight attendant examined it.
I could see my daughter’s face clearly for a second between the headrests.
She wasn’t smiling.
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She looked serious, almost concerned.
That was when I understood something about what had just happened.
