Manifest Mismatch

From the cockpit side, a man in a white shirt came down fast enough to show he’d heard the exchange. Daniel Foster paused at the last step, one hand on the rail.

“What’s the issue?” he asked.

“This passenger isn’t on the list,” Rebecca said.

Daniel looked at Monica, then at the stairs, then back at Rebecca. “What name are you using?”

“Monica Hayes.”

He didn’t react the way Rebecca did. He just reached for the radio clipped at his belt. “Elena, can you pull the central record?”

A woman’s voice answered from inside the cabin. “Already on it.”

Monica stood still while a line of heat shimmered off the tarmac. A catering truck idled farther down the ramp. Somebody laughed near hangar three, too far away to help.

Rebecca kept her chin up. “We can’t board someone who isn’t on the current list.”

“Elena’s checking the current record,” Daniel said. “Hold for a minute.”

Monica watched Rebecca’s jaw work once, hard. She wasn’t angry yet. That would come later, maybe. Right now she just wanted the facts to line up.

A second passed. Then two.

“Elena here,” the voice crackled over the radio. “She’s primary passenger. Confirmation matched at 7:42. Your tablet’s on a sync delay.”

Rebecca looked down at the clipboard like it had betrayed her.

Monica said nothing. She only shifted her tote higher on her shoulder and waited.

Daniel stepped back from the stairs. “Ma’am, you’re clear to board.”

Monica climbed past Rebecca without touching her. The woman stood rigid at the bottom step, eyes fixed somewhere past Monica’s shoulder.