"Good morning, Mr. Banks. Welcome home."
Tyler shook his hand.
"Good morning, James. Is everything ready?"
"Yes, sir. The board is waiting in the conference room."
Karen glanced between them.
The man continued.
"The CEO has also requested your presence before the scheduled review."
"Thank you. I'll be there shortly."
Karen's face tightened.
She suddenly remembered the name on the boy's boarding pass.
Banks.
She remembered the name printed on the airline's official documents.
Crescent Air.
And then she saw the large silver emblem displayed on the wall behind the terminal reception desk.
It was the familiar Crescent Air logo.
A moment later, the terminal's automatic doors opened.
A group of senior executives entered the building.
The man at the front approached Tyler.
"Young Mr. Banks," he said, extending his hand. "It's good to see you."
Tyler shook it.
"Good morning, Mr. Harrison."
Karen felt her stomach drop.
She recognized Harrison.
He was the chief executive officer of Crescent Air.
And he was speaking to the boy as though Tyler were one of the most important people in the company.
Which, as Karen was about to discover, he was.
The silence that followed was more revealing than anything Karen could have said.
She stood near the terminal entrance, gripping her handbag so tightly that her knuckles turned pale.
The boy she had accused of stealing a first-class seat was now surrounded by senior executives.
And they were not treating him as a child who had somehow wandered into the wrong place.
They were treating him as the person whose opinion mattered most.
"Mr. Banks," Harrison continued, "we have reviewed the documents you requested. The board is ready to discuss the findings."
"Good," Tyler replied. "I hope everyone has had time to read the passenger complaints."
"We have."
"All of them?"
Harrison hesitated.
"Most of them."
Tyler stopped walking.
"I asked for all of them, Mr. Harrison."
The CEO immediately understood that the young man was not going to accept an easy answer.
"Yes, sir. The complete report is available."
"Then let's begin."
Tyler adjusted his backpack and followed the executives toward the conference rooms.
Karen watched them disappear through the glass doors.
For several seconds, she remained motionless.
Then she approached the terminal receptionist.
"Excuse me," she said quietly. "Who exactly is that boy?"
The receptionist looked up.
"That is Tyler Banks."
"Yes, I understand his name. But why is everyone treating him like that?"
The receptionist seemed surprised by the question.
"Because he is the principal owner of Crescent Air's controlling family trust. He is also the founder's son."
Karen blinked.
"The founder?"
"Marcus Banks. He established the company."
Karen slowly turned toward the glass doors.
The receptionist continued.
"Mr. Tyler has been involved in several major company reviews. His mother oversees the family trust, but he takes a personal interest in how the airline operates."
Karen felt a strange pressure in her chest.
The boy had not lied.
He had not exaggerated.
He had simply told her the truth.
And she had refused to believe him.
Inside the executive conference room, Tyler took the chair at the head of the table.
The room was large, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the airport. A long polished table occupied the center, surrounded by executives carrying laptops, folders, and printed reports.
At the far end stood a large screen displaying the Crescent Air logo.
Tyler placed his father's notebook beside his tablet.
"Before we begin," he said, "I'd like to establish something."
The executives looked toward him.
"I know I'm young. I know I don't have the same experience as everyone sitting around this table. I'm not here to pretend otherwise."
Mr. Harrison nodded.
"But I do know what my father wanted this company to represent. He believed that every passenger deserved respect, regardless of their appearance, financial position, or background."
Tyler opened the first report.
"And recently, I've received evidence that we may be failing to live up to that standard."
One of the directors, a man named Richard Collins, cleared his throat.
"With respect, Tyler, every large airline receives complaints. Some are legitimate. Others are simply misunderstandings."
Tyler looked at him.
"Are you suggesting that the complaints we received are misunderstandings?"
"I'm suggesting that we should examine the context before making conclusions."
"That's exactly what we're doing."
Tyler tapped the screen.
A series of passenger complaints appeared.
One described a family being questioned repeatedly about their premium tickets.
Another described an employee making inappropriate comments about a passenger's clothing.
A third concerned a young Black businessman who had been asked to prove his identity multiple times while other passengers passed through without being questioned.
Tyler moved to the next page.