Sitting across from two stern-looking security officers. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a harsh glare on the table between us. My heart raced as I tried to comprehend the situation. I hadn’t done anything wrong, had I?
One of the officers, a tall man with a neatly trimmed beard, leaned forward. “Miss, we’re not accusing you of anything yet, but we need to go through some standard procedures. Can you tell us exactly what happened?”
I took a deep breath, my mind scrambling to piece together the events. “I was originally seated in 17A,” I began. “A man approached me and asked if I could switch seats so he could sit next to his daughter. I didn’t think much of it, so I agreed.”
