The security guard checked her name against a visitor list and greeted her courteously. Denise escorted them through a private elevator to the executive conference floor. There, a young assistant had placed water bottles and a plate of fruit on the table, apparently unaware of the details of the complaint. Maya noticed that none of the food had allergen labels. She did not touch it. Lena noticed too and quietly moved the plate away from their seats.
Douglas Whitman stood at the far end of the room in a navy suit without a tie. He was in his early sixties, with neatly combed silver hair and the calm, managerial expression of a man who had built his career on knowing how to deliver bad news without appearing troubled. Beside him sat Petra Sloane, Crestline's deputy general counsel, and two communications executives whose eyes kept returning to their laptops. A large screen displayed remote board members, the chief financial officer, the head of passenger services, and an outside public-relations adviser. The sheer number of people present told Maya that the airline understood the situation was serious, even if its public statements did not yet reflect that understanding.
Douglas came forward with both hands open. "Ms. Williams, thank you for coming in at such an unreasonable hour. I'm Douglas Whitman, interim chairman of Crestline Airways."
Maya shook his hand briefly. "I know who you are, Mr. Whitman." He smiled, interpreting the remark as recognition of his public position. "First, allow me to say how deeply we regret your unpleasant experience."
Maya remained standing. "Unpleasant experience?"
Douglas paused. The legal counsel glanced toward him. "A serious customer-service failure," he corrected.
Lena let out a quiet breath that was almost a laugh. Douglas noticed and looked at her. "And you are?" Lena introduced herself, explained she had been in 3A, and said she had documented the passenger's medical symptoms and repeated requests for help.
Maya added, "Ms. Ortiz stays, and my counsel will join remotely. Everything said in this meeting will be recorded with everyone's knowledge."
Petra Sloane leaned forward. "Ms. Williams, this is an informal settlement discussion. We'd prefer to keep it private."
Maya met her eyes. "You're free to propose confidentiality terms. I'm not agreeing to any without legal review, and I'm not discussing what happened without my own accurate record." Douglas raised one hand.
"That's fair. We want you to feel heard." Maya sat. "Then listen before you offer me anything."
For the next twelve minutes, Maya described the flight in chronological order. She did not embellish. She named Clare Donovan, Ethan Cole, Captain Richard Mallerie, and Victoria Langford. She explained the meal confirmation, the coffee cup, the labeling, the threats, the attempted reconciliation form, the peanut packet, and the nurse's efforts to secure juice. Lena added medical observations where relevant, carefully distinguishing what she saw from what she could not know without a full clinical assessment.
The room grew quieter as the account unfolded. One board member took notes by hand. The head of passenger services stared at the label photographed on the meal tray. A communications executive stopped typing and looked directly at Maya for the first time. Douglas listened without interruption, but Maya noticed how his eyes flickered toward the figures on a spreadsheet whenever she described something that would be difficult to explain publicly.