"Did Ms. Calder check whether you had a parent with you?" he asked.
"She looked at my assistance tag when I boarded," Nessa said. "My aunt is in economy. We couldn't get seats together because of the booking."
Merrick frowned. "She's not registered as an unaccompanied minor."
"I know," Nessa replied. "But my aunt isn't beside me. And Ms. Calder knows that."
The distinction mattered to the airline's formal categories. It mattered much less to a child whose closest adult was several cabins away. Nessa was fourteen, old enough to feel embarrassed about asking for help but young enough to understand that she was expected to defer to the flight attendants. She had told herself that the promised meal would arrive after departure. Hearing Zire question the service record gave her a reason to wonder whether she had been told the truth.
Lenora watched them from across the aisle. Her handbag was partly open beside her knee. A white card with a gold border protruded near the zipper, and when she pulled the strap onto her shoulder, two small dessert cups shifted audibly inside. Zire recognized the design printed on the card from the meal he had helped his mother select.
"Mrs. Pike," he asked, "what's in your bag?"
"My personal belongings."
"There's a meal label sticking out."
"You've spent the whole morning looking at my belongings," she snapped. "Has nobody taught you manners?"
Bria stepped in front of her. "Mr. Dune, this really must stop. He has his proof. We can offer him a replacement and close the matter."
"A replacement doesn't answer why Nessa's order says accepted," Zire said.
"I said there could be a system error."
"Two different system errors with two different excuses?"
Lenora rose, lifting her handbag. "I don't need to sit here and be questioned by children. I'm getting off this plane."
Merrick did not block the aisle aggressively, but he stood where she could see him. "You may decide not to travel. The aircraft doors are open. I do need the meal and its packaging to remain for the service review."