As Carole kept an eye on the boy and the woman next to him, her patience was wearing thin. She was on high alert, waiting for just the right moment when the woman would get up, perhaps to stretch her legs or use the restroom. That would be her chance to step in and check on the boy.
She couldn’t help but notice the boy’s hands. They were busy, constantly moving in a way that seemed out of place. He wasn’t just fiddling with the hem of his shirt or tapping his fingers aimlessly; it looked almost like he was trying to tell her something. ‘Is he signaling me?’ Carole wondered, her curiosity piqued.