Mallerie turned on her. "Miss Ortiz, stop recording." Lena met his eyes. "No." It was one word, delivered without theatrical anger.
Samuel nodded. David raised his phone slightly. Across the aisle, Margaret did the same, though her hands shook. It was not a revolt. It was a handful of passengers deciding that an accurate record was safer than silence.
For the first time, Clare looked frightened. "You can't all record the crew," she said. David asked her to identify the safety danger posed by phones used while seated during the gate delay. She had no explanation beyond repeating the instruction. Ethan began calling the situation a broader security issue, but the phrase no longer had the effect it once did. Everyone in the cabin had heard how the word safety had been introduced only after the meal dispute became impossible to defend.
A cabin chime announced that the aircraft would soon begin taxiing. Maya looked down at her phone and checked the battery indicator. Naomi had sent two messages asking whether the flight was departing, but Maya did not yet have the attention or steadiness to explain what was happening. She typed only that there had been an incident and that she would call after landing. Naomi replied almost immediately: ARE YOU SAFE? Maya stared at the question and wished she could answer it with certainty.
Clare came back down the aisle to prepare the cabin for departure. She told Maya to raise the tray table, and Maya complied, lifting her phone into her hand. Clare's eyes fixed on the device. "You're still recording."
Maya looked at her. "I have put my tray away and secured my belongings. Is there another safety instruction?" Clare's face reddened. "You know what I'm asking."
Maya lowered the phone to her lap. "I know what you're trying to stop."
The airplane pushed back from the gate twelve minutes behind its revised schedule. Outside, the terminal windows moved slowly past under a curtain of rain, their reflections sliding across the polished wing. In economy, passengers settled headphones over their ears and waited for the short flight north. In first class, nobody relaxed. The missing meal had become a symbol of something larger, and the crew seemed determined to make the person harmed by that decision responsible for the resulting discomfort.
Maya watched the taxiway lights move beneath the wing. She thought about getting off the aircraft while there was still a chance, but the doors were closed and the airplane had begun moving. More urgently, she was thinking about her body. The glucose tablet had made the tremor ease for a few minutes, but the effect felt fragile. She did not want to pass out or become confused before anyone took her medical condition seriously.
Lena leaned forward as far as her belt allowed. "When we're permitted to move, I want to check you properly and request something you can safely eat." Maya nodded. "Thank you." Lena hesitated.