“This is what happens when you let riffraff in. Ruins the whole vibe.”
Another guy, younger, with a man bun and a Rolex, started narrating his video. “Check this out.
Poor girl thought she could sneak into first class. Classic.”
Lysandra’s hands stayed folded in her lap.
She didn’t argue, didn’t raise her voice, just looked at Elliot, her eyes steady, and said: “You’re making a choice right now.”
He blinked, thrown for a second, but then waved her off. “Get moving,” he snapped.
Tanya tore Lysandra’s ticket in half, the rip loud in the suddenly quiet cabin.
“Let’s go,” she said, pointing to the door. Lysandra stood, slow and deliberate, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.
The passengers were still laughing, some clapping like it was a show.
She paused at the door, turning just enough to look at Tanya.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice so soft it was almost a whisper. “I’ve seen enough.”
