From the rear jump seat, Chloe heard Thomas's first cry and looked up. Miller's instruction was still in her head: no attention to row thirty-eight, not even the call button. But this was no longer a question of hospitality. A passenger was frightened during turbulence, and the attendant assigned to the area had a clear duty to monitor the cabin as conditions allowed.
As the bumps eased briefly, Chloe leaned forward within the limits of her own restraint and called to Thomas. "Sir, the seat belt sign is on. Please keep your belt fastened. We'll check on you when it's safe."
Thomas nodded without taking his eyes off Margaret. Chloe recognized the calmer tone of his breathing and saw the elderly woman giving him quiet reassurance. The sight lodged in her mind: the passenger Miller wanted ignored was the person helping another passenger through a difficult moment. When the turbulence increased again, Chloe sat back and secured herself, waiting until the captain cleared the crew to move.
For several minutes, nobody in row thirty-eight spoke. The aircraft rocked, the engines maintained their familiar rhythm, and Thomas followed Margaret's breathing count until his shoulders began to descend. He was embarrassed when he finally looked at her, but she shook her head before he could apologize. A frightened person did not owe an audience an apology for being afraid.
"I made a scene," he said.
"You asked for help loudly. There's a difference."
"I thought the wing was breaking."
"I know."
He looked at her hands, which rested calmly on her book. "You really have spent time around airplanes."
Margaret smiled faintly. "Enough to know when a little knowledge can help. And enough to know when to leave the decisions to the people in the cockpit."
When the seat belt sign finally went off, Thomas looked as though he had aged several years during the last twenty minutes. He loosened his grip on the armrests slowly, testing the idea that he could let go without provoking another jolt. Margaret asked whether he wanted water. He shook his head at first, then admitted that his mouth had gone dry, and glanced toward the unlit call button above them.
"I pressed it earlier," he said. "Before the rough air. I don't think they saw."
Margaret had noticed the chime. She had also noticed a crew member pass without looking in their direction, and the absence of the ordinary beverage service everyone around them had received. At first she had allowed herself to believe the crew were merely busy. Now she remembered Chloe's frightened look and the way Miller had positioned himself between the service cart and the rear rows.
"Let's try again," Margaret said.
Thomas pressed the button. A soft chime sounded and the light illuminated above the seats. Several minutes passed while the crew completed their post-turbulence checks. Margaret waited patiently, because she knew an attendant's first responsibility after rough air was securing the cabin and ensuring nobody was injured. Then she watched Miller look down the aisle, register the light, and turn away.