It’s like a charity case field trip.” The cabin rippled with chuckles. Lysandra didn’t flinch.
She slid her backpack under the seat and sat down, her movements deliberate, like she was placing each piece of herself exactly where it belonged.
Then came Tanya Red, the head flight attendant.
She was all sharp cheekbones and glossy lipstick, her uniform pressed to perfection.
She stopped at Lysandra’s seat, one hand on her hip, and tilted her head like she was inspecting a stain.
“Ma’am, are you sure you didn’t mix up your ticket with someone else’s?”
Her voice was syrupy, but the edge was there, cutting. Lysandra met her eyes, calm as a lake.
“I’m sure,” she said, her voice low, steady. Tanya’s smile tightened.
She leaned closer, lowering her voice just enough to sound private, but loud enough for others to hear.
“This is first class. We have standards. That bag of yours is practically falling apart.”
