Sarah froze.
The reaction lasted longer this time.
The attorney on the phone asked, “Everything?”
“Everything.”
I stood slowly.
Coffee dripped from the bottom of my jacket onto the carpet.
Sarah stepped backward.
“Contracts,” I continued.
Her lips parted.
“Internal communications.”
She looked toward the galley.
“Expense records.”
Her hand tightened around the necklace.
“Building access.”
Sarah swallowed.
“Airport access.”
The passengers remained silent.
“Security clearances.”
Her breathing changed.
“And every file tied to any active internal investigation.”
Sarah spoke before the attorney answered.
“You cannot do that.”
I looked at her.
“Why not?”
“Those are confidential records.”
The irony almost made the flight attendant smile.
I returned my attention to the call.
“Send them directly to my secured device.”
The attorney’s tone became careful.
“Give me one minute.”
The call ended.
Sarah folded her arms.
“You are bluffing.”
I wiped coffee from my cuff.
“Am I?”
“My husband has worked with this company for years.”
“I know.”
“He is trusted.”
“I know.”
“He has been inside every major planning meeting.”
“I know.”
She looked irritated by each answer.
“You are acting like some petty tyrant.”
I said nothing.
That made her angrier.
“What exactly are you trying to prove?”
“I am trying to understand why you keep looking toward the cockpit.”
The effect was immediate.
Sarah’s face lost color.
A woman nearby gasped softly.
The flight attendant turned toward the front galley.
Sarah recovered with visible effort.
“I have not been looking anywhere.”
“You have looked there nine times.”
“That is absurd.”
“Ten now.”
Her eyes had shifted again.
Sarah realized it.
She stepped closer.
“You are imagining things.”
“Possibly.”
She smiled.
“Exactly.”
“That is why I requested the records.”
Her smile disappeared.
The flight attendant took a step away from the cockpit entrance.
Another crew member emerged from behind the galley curtain.
The first attendant whispered something to him.
He immediately stopped moving toward the front compartment.
Sarah saw that exchange.
Her composure fractured.
“Why are you frightening everybody?”
Nobody answered her.
“You are inventing some conspiracy because I embarrassed you.”
I looked at the coffee stain across my shirt.
“Throwing coffee was not your mistake.”
Her eyebrows rose.
“No?”
“No.”
I met her eyes.
“Your mistake was trying too hard to make me leave.”
Sarah stared at me.
The cabin seemed smaller now.
The passengers were no longer watching a rude First Class confrontation.
They knew something else was happening.
Nobody knew exactly what.
Neither did I.
That uncertainty changed everything.
My phone vibrated.
A secure notification appeared.
DANIEL MONTGOMERY — RESTRICTED REVIEW.
I opened it.
Sarah watched my face.
I scrolled slowly.
The first page showed Daniel’s corporate photograph.
He wore the confident smile common among expensive consultants.
Below it sat his title.
Lead Operational Strategy Consultant.
The next section listed airport credentials.
The next showed temporary cockpit-adjacent access authorized through project work.
Then I saw a red banner.
ACTIVE INTERNAL REVIEW.
Sarah noticed my expression.
“What?”
I continued reading.
Several expense irregularities had triggered an audit six weeks earlier.
Daniel had billed private purchases as security consulting expenses.
That alone was serious.
It was not enough to explain Sarah.
I opened the next file.
A transfer record appeared.
An employee had reported Daniel moving a sealed package through a restricted service corridor.
Security footage showed only part of the movement.
The package had disappeared before investigators located it.
The report remained unresolved.
My phone vibrated again.
An image loaded.
A rectangular gray package.
A handwritten inventory code had been photographed before the object disappeared.
I looked toward the cockpit.
Sarah stopped breathing.
The next line appeared.
POSSIBLE LOCATION: AIRCRAFT FORWARD SECURITY COMPARTMENT.
I felt every muscle in my shoulders tighten.
The cabin noise faded from my awareness.
Sarah took another step back.
I opened the access history.
A credential had been used that morning.
Not Daniel’s.
Sarah Montgomery.
Her personal travel access code had authenticated entry through a restricted checkpoint connected with the aircraft service corridor.
I looked at her.
The coffee had never been about status.
It had never been about First Class.
It had never been about my presence making her uncomfortable.
She knew who I was.
That was the problem.
Sarah had recognized me before approaching my seat.
She knew what my position gave me access to.
She knew Daniel was already under internal review.
Most importantly, she knew I could authorize records nobody else onboard could reach quickly.
If I remained on the aircraft long enough, I might discover the package.