"Mr. Wilson," she said, "I can make verifying my identity easier."
She opened her bag and took out a small leather holder containing an identification card and a corporate credential used for board meetings. She passed both to him, holding his gaze while he read. Then she spoke in the same steady tone she had used when explaining turbulence to Thomas.
"My name is Margaret Davis. I founded Northridge Air forty years ago. I remain chairwoman of its board."
Wilson stared at the credential. He checked the identification, then the internal directory on his tablet, and finally looked back at her with his expression transformed by recognition. He had seen her photograph in the Seattle headquarters, usually surrounded by senior executives at ceremonial events. In the woman standing before him with a canvas bag, a worn paperback, and a folded airline blanket over her arm, he had not seen the founder.
"Chairwoman Davis," he said softly. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize."
"You had no reason to," Margaret replied. "And you were right to verify before deciding. Please don't change your questions because you know my name now."
Chloe stared at her. For a second, the words did not seem to make sense. Then she remembered the strange seriousness with which Margaret had asked about the exit-row requirements and the way she had told Chloe to preserve accurate records. The woman whose water service might have cost her a career had built the airline that employed her.
Miller went white. "Margaret Davis? The Margaret Davis?"
"Yes," she said. "But I wasn't less qualified for the seat before you knew that."
He swallowed. "Chairwoman, there has been an unfortunate misunderstanding. If I'd known who you were, I would certainly have—"
"You don't need to know who I am to obey your own standards," Margaret interrupted. "And you don't need to know anyone's title to treat them as though they matter."
Miller opened his mouth, but Wilson spoke first. "Mr. Miller, step away from the discussion. The crew report requires an immediate preservation hold and independent review. Please surrender the service tablet so it can be secured without changes."
"You're taking her word over mine?"
"I'm responding to multiple witness accounts and a discrepancy between the report and the gate record," Wilson answered. "Her identity doesn't change those facts."
Margaret looked toward the terminal where Richard Taylor had stopped at a distance, drawn by the sudden congregation of staff. His suitcase stood upright beside him, and the expression on his face was becoming familiar: surprise, then calculation, then the rapid effort of someone deciding what to say when a private favor became publicly embarrassing. She did not summon him, but she did not pretend she had not seen him.