The smell of coffee drifted from the galley, mingling with the recycled air, reminding Carole of the long hours ahead on this flight. She made mental notes of the boy’s actions—the way he looked out the window, then quickly glanced around the cabin, and the nervous tap of his foot. These small details stood out to Carole, signaling that all was not well.
As she pushed the drink cart down the aisle, she kept stealing glances at the boy, trying to catch his eye and offer a reassuring smile. She was ready to act, to offer help or just a listening ear, as soon as she saw an opening. Her resolve was clear, backed by a mix of concern and a dash of hope that she could make a difference.