Isaiah corrected himself.
“Fine.”
“Anything you tell me may become relevant.”
“But I want the truth more than I want a clean report.”
Claire took a breath.
“He calls it cabin protection.”
Isaiah frowned.
“Explain.”
“He says premium customers pay for exclusivity.”
“That we have to prevent people from slipping forward during boarding.”
“Reasonable.”
“Yes.”
“But?”
Claire glanced toward Evelyn.
Then back.
“He has a profile.”
Isaiah’s stomach tightened.
“What profile?”
“People who look confused.”
“People with basic luggage.”
“People dressed very casually.”
“People traveling on upgrades.”
“People who ask where the seat is.”
“That’s not unusual.”
“No.”
“What else?”
Claire looked uncomfortable.
Isaiah waited.
“He says you can usually tell.”
“Tell what?”
“Who belongs.”
There it was.
Not written policy.
Worse.
Culture.
Isaiah looked toward the front of the aircraft.
“How long have you worked with him?”
“Eight months.”
“He train you?”
“Partly.”
“What happens if staff challenge him?”
Claire smiled bitterly.
“Schedule changes.”
“What kind?”
“Good routes disappear.”
“International trips disappear.”
“Suddenly you’re reserve.”
Isaiah stared.
“Reported?”
“To whom?”
“Manager.”
“And?”
“He gets strong customer scores.”
“Premium passengers love him.”
Isaiah understood.
Of course.
Vale might treat passengers he accepted into the premium category beautifully.
That would produce excellent surveys.
The people he pushed out or humiliated often never reached the postflight questionnaire.
Selection bias disguised as service excellence.
Isaiah wrote nothing.
He did not want Claire to shut down.
“Any formal complaints against him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Informal?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“Enough.”
Evelyn had been listening quietly.
Now she spoke.
“Then why are you still afraid to answer?”
Claire looked at her.
Evelyn smiled gently.
“Not criticism, dear.”
Claire swallowed.
“Because airlines are small.”
Isaiah understood immediately.
Not literally small.
Professionally small.
Reputation moves.
Managers talk.
Routes matter.
A label like difficult employee could follow someone for years.
Isaiah said:
“Thank you.”
Claire nodded.
Then walked away.
Evelyn stirred her tea.
“That girl has been carrying that for a while.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t make her regret telling you.”
“I won’t.”
Evelyn looked at him sharply.
Isaiah corrected: