For three straight hours, the entire plane had been trapped inside that relentless crying. Andrew had tried everything his money, education, and desperation could produce.
He had walked the aisles with Lily pressed against his shoulder, offered her warmed bottles, changed her diaper twice in the narrow airplane lavatory, and even played soft piano music through expensive noise-canceling headphones near her ears. Nothing helped.
The passengers around him had stopped pretending to be patient. The flight attendants had run out of polite suggestions. Even the captain had made a carefully worded announcement about maintaining a comfortable environment for all travelers, and Andrew knew perfectly well who that message was for.
Then something happened that Andrew would later replay in his mind a hundred times.
A sixteen-year-old Black boy from economy class appeared beside his seat.
His clothes were worn but clean. His sneakers were scuffed. His backpack had been patched with silver duct tape, and its fabric was covered with mathematics competition pins. He looked young, but his eyes were calm in a way that immediately stood out.