An Unexpected First-Class Encounter

The first-class cabin was nearly full when Richard Dunham stepped on board, pulling his Italian leather carry-on behind him. He adjusted the cuff of his tailored suit and scanned the rows until he found his seat — 4B. Prime location. He smiled in quiet approval.

Then he saw her.

In 4A sat a woman whose frame slightly crossed into his seat space. She wore a loose gray sweater and sweatpants, her frizzy hair pulled into a quick ponytail. A worn-out backpack rested at her feet. She looked out of place—as if she’d taken the wrong flight.

Continues…