The man in seat 2A didn’t look like anyone else in first class. His coat was old and worn at the sleeves, his boots were scuffed, and his gray beard looked like it hadn’t seen a razor in weeks. While the other passengers settled in with champagne and laptops, he simply sat there quietly with his hands folded on his lap.
People noticed immediately.
A woman across the aisle leaned toward her husband and whispered something while glancing in his direction. Two businessmen further back exchanged looks that made it clear they had already decided he didn’t belong there. The tension grew thick enough that even the flight attendants started noticing the stares.
