punctuation: Do not say another word.
She stared at it, suddenly feeling isolated. Daniel was not protecting her; he was scrambling to save himself.
She opened the chat but found nothing to write. What could undo the arrogance she had broadcast across the cabin?
She had said Evan did not belong in first class, unaware he owned the cargo beneath her. The irony tasted bitter.
The cabin stayed quiet past the flight’s midpoint. Evan closed his laptop, leaned back, and rested his eyes.
He could compartmentalize intense pressure with rare discipline. The boardroom clash was inevitable, so he conserved his energy until landing.
Forty minutes later, the seatbelt chime signaled descent. Marissa checked that trays were locked and luggage stowed.
She gave Evan a respectful nod; he returned a warm smile. At Darla’s row, she pointed firmly at the tray table.
Darla latched it quickly, feeling like a scolded child.
