His costly gray jacket was folded neatly on the cushion. His neck pillow rested on top of it. His headphones case, snack bag, newspaper, and the small leather pouch he had been allowing to spill across the divider for the last four hours were arranged beside them.
Nothing was damaged.
Nothing was missing.
Nothing had even been moved more than a few inches.
I had simply taken every object that belonged to him and placed it entirely inside the space he had paid for.
Then I had lifted the armrest between us.
For the first time since takeoff, the invisible border between his seat and mine had become perfectly clear.