The captain stopped beside 36B, came to full attention, and saluted me while my father was still laughing in first class.-

He went across the aisle with both hands out, not graceful anymore, not polished, not joking. Just fast. Desperate fast.

Naomi moved first.

She didn’t shout. She didn’t make a scene. She just drove the service cart sideways with a hard twist of her wrists, and one metal corner slammed into Brent’s thigh.

He stumbled into the armrest beside me and cursed under his breath.

I caught the laptop before it hit the floor, folded the screen shut, and held it flat against my chest. The captain stepped between us so cleanly it felt practiced.

For one second, Brent looked like he might try again.

Then he saw the captain’s face and stopped.

Naomi planted both hands on the cart handle and blocked the aisle completely. Her silver wing pin flashed under the cabin lights.

Nobody got past her.