Charles turned toward her.
“Remove them.”
Sophie stared.
“Sir?”
“You heard me.”
Amara glanced at Sophie.
The young attendant’s hands had begun trembling.
Amara understood the dynamic immediately.
Charles was not merely an angry passenger.
He possessed institutional power.
That made Sophie’s hesitation more complicated.
Amara looked down.
Her handbag lay beside her heel.
She bent carefully, still holding Maya.
Charles moved toward the bag first.
Amara straightened instantly.
“Don’t.”
Something in her tone stopped him.
Charles’s face tightened.
“You’ve already disrupted boarding.”
“We’ve been in the air forty minutes.”
The passenger in row three laughed once.
Charles turned sharply.
The man immediately lowered his eyes.
Amara saw it.
Fear.
Not of physical danger.
Of recognition.
Charles clearly inspired it.
Sophie tried again.
“Mr. Whitmore, perhaps I can bring a towel for the baby and we can—”
“No.”
His voice became colder.
“The passenger moves.”
Amara stared at him.
“You’re removing an infant because you poured water on her?”
Charles’s face hardened.
“You’re twisting this.”
Amara almost smiled.
“How?”
“You allowed the child to scream.”
“For approximately fifteen seconds.”
“Long enough.”
Amara looked toward Sophie.
“Please bring me a towel.”
Sophie nodded immediately.
Charles snapped:
“Stay where you are.”
Sophie froze.
Amara watched her.
That one command told Amara almost as much as the water did.
The airline had a problem.
Maybe larger than she thought.
Charles leaned toward Amara.
“I don’t know who you think you are.”
Amara’s eyes remained steady.
“No.”
“You don’t.”
He pointed down the aisle.
“Move.”
Amara did not.
Charles laughed.
Then gestured toward Sophie.
“Call security at the gate on arrival.”
Sophie whispered:
“We’re airborne.”
“I know where we are.”
“I mean…”
She stopped.
Charles took one step closer.
“Do it.”
Amara shifted Maya slightly.
The baby had stopped screaming.
Now she was hiccupping against her mother’s shoulder, confused and wet.
Amara’s anger became quieter.
More dangerous.
“Scan my boarding pass.”
Charles looked at her.
“What?”
“My boarding pass.”
“I don’t need to.”
“You’re telling me to leave my seat.”
“Yes.”
“Then verify the reservation.”
Charles stared.
Amara continued.
“That is your company procedure.”
His expression changed.
Only slightly.