"You can want something badly and still notice somebody else needs it more," Harlon had said. "Those two feelings can live in the same person."
At the time Zire had thought the lesson was mostly about being generous. Now he understood that it was also about paying attention. The airline had brought one sealed replacement tray. Nessa could safely eat it, and Zire could eat ordinary food if the crew found something simple. His grandfather's planned review suddenly seemed to be asking a question far more difficult than whether the salmon looked appetizing.
He lifted the bag and carried it to Nessa's table. The small distance felt strangely long because the whole cabin seemed to be watching him again. Nessa looked up in surprise when he placed the tray in front of her, careful not to break the allergen seal.
"This one's yours," he said.
She stared at the food. "They brought it for you."
"They brought it because they took something from both of us. You're the one who needs this kind."
"But your grandfather paid for yours."
"He helped arrange it. He also told me to check who else needed a meal before I started talking about how good mine tasted."
Nessa shook her head. "We could divide it."
"The seal should stay closed until you can check that it's safe. And I can have something else."
Merrick crouched beside them. "Zire, you do not have to give up your replacement. We'll make sure Nessa has food."
"When?" Zire asked.
Merrick looked at the galley, then the manager, then back at the children. He could not honestly promise a suitable second tray before takeoff. Zire waited while Merrick considered the question, then gently moved the replacement closer to Nessa.
"Let her have it," he said. "Please."
Nessa checked the label twice, then lifted the lid with careful hands. She looked relieved, but there were tears in her eyes too. Having somebody notice what she needed was almost as unexpected as having the food taken in the first place. She thanked Zire so quietly that he barely heard her, and he pretended to be fascinated by the seat-belt buckle to spare her embarrassment.
Across the aisle, Lenora raised her phone. She had always been quick to recognize a powerful human-interest image, and a generous child giving away his meal was the sort of scene her followers might admire. But before she could frame the photograph, Zire looked directly at her.