“By whom?”
“Mr. Johnson.”
David nodded.
“Then there was no seating issue.”
Richard hesitated.
“No.”
David turned toward Catherine.
“What exactly did you see?”
She looked uncomfortable.
“I saw a child sitting in First Class.”
“And?”
“I thought he was in the wrong cabin.”
“Why?”
“I've explained.”
“No.”
David's voice remained quiet.
“You haven't.”
Catherine looked toward Richard.
He didn't help her.
David waited.
Finally she said:
“He was alone.”
David nodded.
“So?”
“I assumed he was not supposed to be there.”
“Why?”
“Because most children his age aren't.”
David looked at Malik.
“Did my son tell you he had a ticket?”
“Yes.”
“Did he offer to show it?”
“Yes.”
“And you refused to verify it.”
“I didn't refuse.”
“You didn't do it.”
Catherine had no answer.
The businessman across the aisle finally spoke.
“Mr. Johnson?”
David looked over.
The man folded his newspaper.
“My name is Thomas Reed.”
David nodded.
“I saw what happened.”
“Thank you.”
Reed looked at Catherine.
“She didn't scan his boarding pass.”
Catherine stiffened.
Reed continued.
“I've been flying Mesa for years. I've never seen an employee handle a seating dispute that way.”
Catherine said:
“Sir, with respect—”
Reed raised his hand.
“I am not trying to attack you.”
He looked at David.
“I'm telling you what I saw.”
A woman across the aisle spoke next.
“So did I.”
Everyone looked at her.
She was in her forties and had a small black handbag on her lap.
“She didn't check anything.”
Another passenger nodded.
“She just told him to move.”
Catherine's face reddened.
Richard Hale looked at her.
“Ms. Ward.”
She turned.
“Yes?”
“Why did you remove the backpack?”
“I was trying to help him gather his things.”
“You pulled it from underneath his seat.”
“I didn't mean anything by it.”
David's expression changed slightly.
“You didn't mean anything by it.”
Catherine looked at him.
“No.”
“My son told you he was in his assigned seat.”
“Yes.”
“He asked you to check.”
“Yes.”
“You refused.”
“I believed—”
“You believed.”
She stopped.
David continued.
“You then reached beneath his seat, took his personal property, dropped it in the aisle, and ordered him to leave.”
Catherine looked down.
David turned toward Richard.
“Is that consistent with Mesa procedure?”
“No.”
“Is it acceptable?”
“No.”
“Would an employee normally be permitted to remove a passenger's property without consent?”
“No.”
David nodded.
“Then we're not dealing with a simple seating mistake.”
Richard understood.
“No.”
“What are we dealing with?”
Richard looked uncomfortable.
“I don't know yet.”
David looked at him.
“Find out.”
The boarding door remained open.
Other passengers were waiting.
The crew was waiting.
But nobody wanted to move.
The flight had already been delayed.
David understood the operational pressure.
He also understood that pressure could be used as an excuse.
He turned toward Malik.
“Are you okay?”
Malik nodded.
“Do you want water?”
“Yes.”
David asked the flight attendant.
“Could we get him some?”
“Of course.”
She hurried away.
Malik whispered:
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Are we going to miss the flight?”
David smiled.
“Maybe.”
Malik frowned.
“I'm sorry.”
David immediately shook his head.
“Don't apologize.”
“But—”
“You didn't cause this.”
Malik looked down.
David crouched.
“Listen.”
Malik looked up.
“Adults sometimes make mistakes.”
“Okay.”
“But when they do, it's their responsibility to fix them.”
Malik nodded.
“You don't have to fix this.”
The words stayed with him.
Across the cabin, Catherine heard them.
She looked away.
The water arrived.
Malik took a sip.
David returned to the executives.
“I have one more question.”
Richard nodded.
“What?”
“How many complaints have you received about similar situations?”
Richard's expression changed.
David noticed.
“You know.”
Richard hesitated.
“I know there have been complaints.”
“How many?”
“I don't have the number.”
“Find it.”
“Mr. Johnson—”
“Find it.”
Richard looked at Evelyn.
She understood.
“Give me ten minutes.”
She left the cabin.
David sat beside Malik.
Catherine remained near the galley.
For the first time, she looked uncertain.
Not angry.
Not defensive.
Uncertain.
Ten minutes later, Evelyn returned.
She was holding a tablet.
David looked at her.
“Well?”
She sat down.
“We have records.”
“How many?”
She hesitated.
“Thirty-seven.”
The cabin went quiet again.
David's eyes narrowed.
“Thirty-seven complaints involving what?”
“Premium-cabin seating disputes.”
“How many involved children?”
Evelyn looked at the screen.
“Eight.”
Malik looked up.
Eight.
David asked:
“Over what period?”
“Twenty-four months.”
“Were they investigated?”
Evelyn hesitated.
“Some.”
“Some?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to the others?”
“They were categorized as customer misunderstandings.”
David leaned back.
He looked at Richard.
“Were they misunderstandings?”
Richard didn't answer.
David looked at Evelyn.
“Bring me the records.”
“We can provide them.”
“Not tomorrow.”
“I understand.”
“Today.”
She nodded.
The businessman, Thomas Reed, looked toward David.
“This isn't just about your son, is it?”
David looked at him.
“No.”
He glanced at Malik.
“It stopped being about one seat the moment they told me there were thirty-seven similar complaints.”