She stared down at it in disbelief, then back at Daniel, eyes wide and furious. Daniel turned, looking stunned but calm. “I—I’m sorry,” he said, feigning concern. “That kick just now startled me. I lost my grip.” He glanced at the boy, who had frozen mid-swing. “It’s really hard to hold onto things when your seat keeps jerking forward.”
The mother opened her mouth, a retort forming. But then came the sound she hadn’t expected. The murmurs. Soft at first—like a breeze under the tension. A woman across the aisle leaned toward her husband. “Honestly, I’ve been watching it happen. Poor guy’s been getting kicked nonstop.”