The passengers are just settling into their seats.
You find your row, compare the number with your boarding pass, and sit down.
Little by little, the plane fills up around you.
A few minutes later, a man stops next to your row.
Dark coat. Expensive watch. A calm, self-assured presence.
He casts a brief glance at the number above your head.
Then he looks at you.
His gaze shifts to his own boarding pass.
Back to the seat number.
A brief pause.
"Excuse me."
His voice is calm.
"I believe you're sitting in my seat."
He holds his boarding pass up slightly so the number on it is visible.
"12A."
He doesn't move, boarding pass in hand, and waits for you to move.