Now she was doing it again. ‘This can’t be a coincidence,’ Sandra thought while looking at the woman walking into the plane. There was something about her. Something that gave her a bad feeling. A really bad feeling.

It took her back right to that one day. That day she had so desperately wished to forget. That day had changed her life forever. And not in a good way… She had decided to forget about it. To just leave it behind and go on living her life like everything was fine. But now, this woman stepped into her plane.

At first, she hadn’t really noticed her. She was busy doing her duties as a flight attendant. She had a lot of things to do on her checklist once the passengers boarded the plane, so her mind was occupied with that. But it didn’t take long before her mind was occupied with something entirely different…

From the minute the woman stepped onto the plane, Sandra had an odd feeling about her. She couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but something about her told her to pay close attention… ‘What is it? What are you trying to tell me?’ Sandra thought, pensive. She bit her lip and squinted her eyes to take a better look at her.

As the woman made her way down the aisle, Sandra’s intuition prompted her to take in every aspect of her appearance and behavior. The woman, who appeared to be in her late twenties, radiated a kind of nervous energy that seemed to charge the atmosphere around her. Her eyes flickered quickly across the cabin, scanning and never resting too long in any one direction — it was as if she was on alert, perhaps fearing something, or someone…

Her hands were restless, constantly adjusting her purse or smoothing back a strand of hair, revealing her anxiety. Sandra wondered, ‘What’s on her mind?’ Observing the woman’s quick, blue-eyed glances around the plane, she saw a natural beauty shadowed by her unease, as if her worries were dimming her brightness.

Young Woman Keeps Making Hand Signals in Airplane – When Stewardess Realizes Why, She Alerts the Authorities

Now she was doing it again. ‘This can’t be a coincidence,’ Sandra thought while looking at the woman walking into the plane. There was something about her. Something that gave her a bad feeling. A really bad feeling.

It took her back right to that one day. That day she had so desperately wished to forget. That day had changed her life forever. And not in a good way… She had decided to forget about it. To just leave it behind and go on living her life like everything was fine. But now, this woman stepped into her plane.

At first, she hadn’t really noticed her. She was busy doing her duties as a flight attendant. She had a lot of things to do on her checklist once the passengers boarded the plane, so her mind was occupied with that. But it didn’t take long before her mind was occupied with something entirely different…

From the minute the woman stepped onto the plane, Sandra had an odd feeling about her. She couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but something about her told her to pay close attention… ‘What is it? What are you trying to tell me?’ Sandra thought, pensive. She bit her lip and squinted her eyes to take a better look at her.

As the woman made her way down the aisle, Sandra’s intuition prompted her to take in every aspect of her appearance and behavior. The woman, who appeared to be in her late twenties, radiated a kind of nervous energy that seemed to charge the atmosphere around her. Her eyes flickered quickly across the cabin, scanning and never resting too long in any one direction — it was as if she was on alert, perhaps fearing something, or someone…

Her hands were restless, constantly adjusting her purse or smoothing back a strand of hair, revealing her anxiety. Sandra wondered, ‘What’s on her mind?’ Observing the woman’s quick, blue-eyed glances around the plane, she saw a natural beauty shadowed by her unease, as if her worries were dimming her brightness.

Sandra couldn’t ignore the alarm bells ringing in her head. ‘Why does she seem so out of place?’ she wondered, her gaze following her as she finally chose a seat next to a man… ‘Was that someone she knew? Was that the reason she was acting so nervous?’ 

She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she hadn’t even noticed her colleague, Harper, sneaking up on her. “What’s up!” Harper said cheerfully. Sandra gasped, “Oh! You startled me,” she said, putting on a fake smile. “I was just daydreaming for a bit,” she explained, keeping the mood light. She didn’t want to tell her what was on her mind. What if she was wrong?

Harper took her in for a moment and then asked, “Ready to start serving drinks?” Sandra nodded, and they both headed towards the galley. Sandra desperately hoped she could serve in aisle 2. She had a specific reason for wanting to work in aisle 2—it was where the woman, who had caught her attention earlier, was sitting. She hoped to get closer to maybe understand a little more about her.

“Can we take aisle 2?” she asked Harper, hoping it might help her figure out that odd feeling she had earlier. But it seemed luck wasn’t on her side. “Looks like Charlotte and Steve already started there,” Harper replied with a frown. “Why aisle 2?” she wondered curiously. “Did you spot a cute guy sitting there?” With a mischievous grin, she glanced quickly at Sandra and then turned her attention to aisle 2, trying to spot the guy she guessed Sandra had noticed.

“Oh no, that’s not it at all,” Sandra quickly interjected, trying to downplay her interest. “It’s really nothing.” Yet, Harper wasn’t convinced and continued to give Sandra that all-too-knowing look, her smile suggesting she saw right through the facade. Feeling the pressure to deflect further inquiry, Sandra adopted her most convincing tone and said, “It’s actually because of my lucky number, you know. Number 2… That’s the whole reason.”

Harper paused, her response drawn out and playful. “Well, well… it seems Sandra has a crush she doesn’t want me to know about. Alright, if that’s how you want to play it… Fine.” She continued with a hint of jest, “There’s no harm in looking, you know. I spot handsome men all the time, and I would definitely share that eyecandy with my colleague. But whatever,” she sighed, pretending to give up on the matter, yet her tone suggested a blend of amusement and mock resignation.

Sandra decided to ignore her and closely observed the interactions between the woman and the man seated next to her. As the man ordered a beer for himself and a water for the woman, it became apparent to Sandra that they were traveling together. However, the woman’s demeanor — her scared and uncertain expression — did not escape Sandra’s keen observation.

Sandra’s gaze drifted to the man beside the woman, observing the authoritative way he managed their surroundings. He was noticeably older, likely in his late forties or fifties, exuding an air of seasoned confidence.  He had a dignified look and a posture that showed he was used to being in control. His clothes were classic and neat, chosen to show a sense of order and tradition.

His interactions with the woman were marked by a subtle but unmistakable dominance. He chose their seats, adjusted the overhead bin without seeking her input, and even spoke for her when a flight attendant asked if they needed anything. His voice carried a firmness that bordered on insistence, suggesting a dynamic that made Sandra uneasy. ‘Who was he to her?’ 

As Sandra kept an eye on the man and woman, her patience was wearing thin. She was on high alert, waiting for just the right moment when the man would get up, perhaps to stretch his legs or use the restroom. That would be her chance to step in and check on the woman.

She couldn’t help but notice the woman’s hands. They were busy, constantly moving in a way that seemed out of place. She wasn’t just fiddling with the hem of her shirt or tapping her fingers aimlessly; it looked almost like she was trying to tell her something. ‘Is she signaling me?’ Sandra wondered, her curiosity piqued.

Her thoughts raced as she planned what to say to her, how to appear friendly and not scare her off. ‘Maybe a joke about the food, or a comment about how long the flight is?’ she thought, trying to come up with the perfect icebreaker.

Amidst the constant background buzz of the cabin, with passengers chatting and the sporadic beep of a call button, Sandra found herself tuning out the noise. Her attention was laser-focused on the woman and the man beside her, their pairing striking her as odd. ‘I hope he’s not her partner,’ Sandra thought, feeling a mix of concern and disbelief. ‘That just wouldn’t sit right…’ With each sip the man took of his beer, Sandra kept a watchful eye, silently willing him to leave his seat.

The smell of coffee drifted from the galley, mingling with the recycled air, reminding Sandra of the long hours ahead on this flight. She made mental notes of the woman’s actions—the way she looked out the window, then quickly glanced around the cabin, and the nervous tap of her foot. These small details stood out to Sandra, signaling that all was not well.

As she pushed the drink cart down the aisle, she kept stealing glances at the woman, trying to catch her eye and offer a reassuring smile. She was ready to act, to offer help or just a listening ear, as soon as she saw an opening. Her resolve was clear, backed by a mix of concern and a dash of hope that she could make a difference.

After waiting for almost two hours, Sandra finally saw her opportunity when the man went to the bathroom. Seizing the chance, Sandra concocted a quick excuse to approach the woman.  She turned to her colleague, “Hey, I think I left my pen near that seat by the window, mind if I check real quick while you handle this row?” Her voice was calm, masking the urgency she felt inside. Her colleague, busy with the cart and unaware of Sandra’s true intent, simply nodded, allowing Sandra to move toward the woman under the pretense of searching for a lost item.

Drawing a deep, steadying breath, Sandra discreetly slipped a pen into her pocket, adopting an air of nonchalance as she approached the woman’s seat. That’s when the peculiar detail that had initially piqued her interest became even clearer: the woman was making unusual hand gestures. Sandra remembered observing the same motions earlier, right when they were boarding and the man was busy with the overhead compartments. Here they were again, these deliberate, silent signals that seemed almost like a language of their own. It struck Sandra that the woman might be trying to communicate something important with these movements.

Sandra approached with care, noticing the woman’s startled reaction swiftly shift to a pretense of interest in the scenery outside the window. In a gentle move, Sandra feigned a casual demeanor, subtly leaning forward. “I think this might be yours,” she softly said, presenting the pen, which she carefully placed on a small piece of paper on the woman’s tray table, making it appear unintentional.

With an awareness of the fleeting opportunity, Sandra swiftly added, “If there’s anything you need, feel free to jot it down, okay?” She infused her voice with a whisper of reassurance and warmth, encouraging the woman to communicate in secrecy if needed. Her eyes lingered on her, searching for any hint of response or comfort in her reaction. Yet, as she hoped to bridge the gap, Sandra spotted something moving out of the corner of her eye.

Harper took her in for a moment and then asked, “Ready to start serving drinks?” Sandra nodded, and they both headed towards the galley. Sandra desperately hoped she could serve in aisle 2. She had a specific reason for wanting to work in aisle 2—it was where the woman, who had caught her attention earlier, was sitting. She hoped to get closer to maybe understand a little more about her.

“Can we take aisle 2?” she asked Harper, hoping it might help her figure out that odd feeling she had earlier. But it seemed luck wasn’t on her side. “Looks like Charlotte and Steve already started there,” Harper replied with a frown. “Why aisle 2?” she wondered curiously. “Did you spot a cute guy sitting there?” With a mischievous grin, she glanced quickly at Sandra and then turned her attention to aisle 2, trying to spot the guy she guessed Sandra had noticed.

“Oh no, that’s not it at all,” Sandra quickly interjected, trying to downplay her interest. “It’s really nothing.” Yet, Harper wasn’t convinced and continued to give Sandra that all-too-knowing look, her smile suggesting she saw right through the facade. Feeling the pressure to deflect further inquiry, Sandra adopted her most convincing tone and said, “It’s actually because of my lucky number, you know. Number 2… That’s the whole reason.”

Harper paused, her response drawn out and playful. “Well, well… it seems Sandra has a crush she doesn’t want me to know about. Alright, if that’s how you want to play it… Fine.” She continued with a hint of jest, “There’s no harm in looking, you know. I spot handsome men all the time, and I would definitely share that eyecandy with my colleague. But whatever,” she sighed, pretending to give up on the matter, yet her tone suggested a blend of amusement and mock resignation.

Sandra decided to ignore her and closely observed the interactions between the woman and the man seated next to her. As the man ordered a beer for himself and a water for the woman, it became apparent to Sandra that they were traveling together. However, the woman’s demeanor — her scared and uncertain expression — did not escape Sandra’s keen observation.

Sandra’s gaze drifted to the man beside the woman, observing the authoritative way he managed their surroundings. He was noticeably older, likely in his late forties or fifties, exuding an air of seasoned confidence.  He had a dignified look and a posture that showed he was used to being in control. His clothes were classic and neat, chosen to show a sense of order and tradition.

His interactions with the woman were marked by a subtle but unmistakable dominance. He chose their seats, adjusted the overhead bin without seeking her input, and even spoke for her when a flight attendant asked if they needed anything. His voice carried a firmness that bordered on insistence, suggesting a dynamic that made Sandra uneasy. ‘Who was he to her?’ 

Even though everything looked okay on the outside, Sandra felt in her gut that something was off. She really wanted to help the woman, who seemed very uncomfortable, but wasn’t sure how. ‘What exactly is wrong?’ she wondered, feeling a bit uncertain. Since the flight was going to be 13 hours long, Sandra knew she had time to figure things out. She decided she needed to watch carefully and figure out the best way to help, making sure to do it gently and without drawing too much attention.

Sandra planned to approach the woman right after she was done serving drinks. She thought of a good excuse ahead of time, just in case her colleagues got curious about what she was doing. She decided she’d wait for the perfect moment when the man accompanying her went to the restroom, so she could talk to the woman privately.

As Sandra kept an eye on the man and woman, her patience was wearing thin. She was on high alert, waiting for just the right moment when the man would get up, perhaps to stretch his legs or use the restroom. That would be her chance to step in and check on the woman.

She couldn’t help but notice the woman’s hands. They were busy, constantly moving in a way that seemed out of place. She wasn’t just fiddling with the hem of her shirt or tapping her fingers aimlessly; it looked almost like she was trying to tell her something. ‘Is she signaling me?’ Sandra wondered, her curiosity piqued.

Her thoughts raced as she planned what to say to her, how to appear friendly and not scare her off. ‘Maybe a joke about the food, or a comment about how long the flight is?’ she thought, trying to come up with the perfect icebreaker.

Amidst the constant background buzz of the cabin, with passengers chatting and the sporadic beep of a call button, Sandra found herself tuning out the noise. Her attention was laser-focused on the woman and the man beside her, their pairing striking her as odd. ‘I hope he’s not her partner,’ Sandra thought, feeling a mix of concern and disbelief. ‘That just wouldn’t sit right…’ With each sip the man took of his beer, Sandra kept a watchful eye, silently willing him to leave his seat.

The smell of coffee drifted from the galley, mingling with the recycled air, reminding Sandra of the long hours ahead on this flight. She made mental notes of the woman’s actions—the way she looked out the window, then quickly glanced around the cabin, and the nervous tap of her foot. These small details stood out to Sandra, signaling that all was not well.

As she pushed the drink cart down the aisle, she kept stealing glances at the woman, trying to catch her eye and offer a reassuring smile. She was ready to act, to offer help or just a listening ear, as soon as she saw an opening. Her resolve was clear, backed by a mix of concern and a dash of hope that she could make a difference.

After waiting for almost two hours, Sandra finally saw her opportunity when the man went to the bathroom. Seizing the chance, Sandra concocted a quick excuse to approach the woman.  She turned to her colleague, “Hey, I think I left my pen near that seat by the window, mind if I check real quick while you handle this row?” Her voice was calm, masking the urgency she felt inside. Her colleague, busy with the cart and unaware of Sandra’s true intent, simply nodded, allowing Sandra to move toward the woman under the pretense of searching for a lost item.

Drawing a deep, steadying breath, Sandra discreetly slipped a pen into her pocket, adopting an air of nonchalance as she approached the woman’s seat. That’s when the peculiar detail that had initially piqued her interest became even clearer: the woman was making unusual hand gestures. Sandra remembered observing the same motions earlier, right when they were boarding and the man was busy with the overhead compartments. Here they were again, these deliberate, silent signals that seemed almost like a language of their own. It struck Sandra that the woman might be trying to communicate something important with these movements.

Sandra approached with care, noticing the woman’s startled reaction swiftly shift to a pretense of interest in the scenery outside the window. In a gentle move, Sandra feigned a casual demeanor, subtly leaning forward. “I think this might be yours,” she softly said, presenting the pen, which she carefully placed on a small piece of paper on the woman’s tray table, making it appear unintentional.

With an awareness of the fleeting opportunity, Sandra swiftly added, “If there’s anything you need, feel free to jot it down, okay?” She infused her voice with a whisper of reassurance and warmth, encouraging the woman to communicate in secrecy if needed. Her eyes lingered on her, searching for any hint of response or comfort in her reaction. Yet, as she hoped to bridge the gap, Sandra spotted something moving out of the corner of her eye.

It was the man. He was returning to his seat and instantly, his eyes landed on the pen and piece of paper, now positioned in front of the woman. His eyebrows went up in surprise, and he looked at them closely, trying to figure out what was going on. He looked from the paper and pen to the woman, and then his eyes landed on Sandra, standing not too far away.

Sandra let out a sigh, realizing her plan hadn’t worked. She had hoped this would help gain the woman’s trust, but she hadn’t even acknowledged her presence. Now, this man was staring at her as if she had done something wrong when all she wanted was to help. Sandra suddenly felt really uncomfortable under the piercing gaze of this man. She needed to get out of there.

At first, she hadn’t really noticed her. She was busy doing her duties as a flight attendant. She had a lot of things to do on her checklist once the passengers boarded the plane, so her mind was occupied with that. But it didn’t take long before her mind was occupied with something entirely different…

From the minute the woman stepped onto the plane, Sandra had an odd feeling about her. She couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but something about her told her to pay close attention… ‘What is it? What are you trying to tell me?’ Sandra thought, pensive. She bit her lip and squinted her eyes to take a better look at her.

As the woman made her way down the aisle, Sandra’s intuition prompted her to take in every aspect of her appearance and behavior. The woman, who appeared to be in her late twenties, radiated a kind of nervous energy that seemed to charge the atmosphere around her. Her eyes flickered quickly across the cabin, scanning and never resting too long in any one direction — it was as if she was on alert, perhaps fearing something, or someone…

Her hands were restless, constantly adjusting her purse or smoothing back a strand of hair, revealing her anxiety. Sandra wondered, ‘What’s on her mind?’ Observing the woman’s quick, blue-eyed glances around the plane, she saw a natural beauty shadowed by her unease, as if her worries were dimming her brightness.

Sandra couldn’t ignore the alarm bells ringing in her head. ‘Why does she seem so out of place?’ she wondered, her gaze following her as she finally chose a seat next to a man… ‘Was that someone she knew? Was that the reason she was acting so nervous?’ 

She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she hadn’t even noticed her colleague, Harper, sneaking up on her. “What’s up!” Harper said cheerfully. Sandra gasped, “Oh! You startled me,” she said, putting on a fake smile. “I was just daydreaming for a bit,” she explained, keeping the mood light. She didn’t want to tell her what was on her mind. What if she was wrong?

Harper took her in for a moment and then asked, “Ready to start serving drinks?” Sandra nodded, and they both headed towards the galley. Sandra desperately hoped she could serve in aisle 2. She had a specific reason for wanting to work in aisle 2—it was where the woman, who had caught her attention earlier, was sitting. She hoped to get closer to maybe understand a little more about her.

“Can we take aisle 2?” she asked Harper, hoping it might help her figure out that odd feeling she had earlier. But it seemed luck wasn’t on her side. “Looks like Charlotte and Steve already started there,” Harper replied with a frown. “Why aisle 2?” she wondered curiously. “Did you spot a cute guy sitting there?” With a mischievous grin, she glanced quickly at Sandra and then turned her attention to aisle 2, trying to spot the guy she guessed Sandra had noticed.

“Oh no, that’s not it at all,” Sandra quickly interjected, trying to downplay her interest. “It’s really nothing.” Yet, Harper wasn’t convinced and continued to give Sandra that all-too-knowing look, her smile suggesting she saw right through the facade. Feeling the pressure to deflect further inquiry, Sandra adopted her most convincing tone and said, “It’s actually because of my lucky number, you know. Number 2… That’s the whole reason.”

Harper paused, her response drawn out and playful. “Well, well… it seems Sandra has a crush she doesn’t want me to know about. Alright, if that’s how you want to play it… Fine.” She continued with a hint of jest, “There’s no harm in looking, you know. I spot handsome men all the time, and I would definitely share that eyecandy with my colleague. But whatever,” she sighed, pretending to give up on the matter, yet her tone suggested a blend of amusement and mock resignation.

Sandra decided to ignore her and closely observed the interactions between the woman and the man seated next to her. As the man ordered a beer for himself and a water for the woman, it became apparent to Sandra that they were traveling together. However, the woman’s demeanor — her scared and uncertain expression — did not escape Sandra’s keen observation.

Sandra’s gaze drifted to the man beside the woman, observing the authoritative way he managed their surroundings. He was noticeably older, likely in his late forties or fifties, exuding an air of seasoned confidence.  He had a dignified look and a posture that showed he was used to being in control. His clothes were classic and neat, chosen to show a sense of order and tradition.

His interactions with the woman were marked by a subtle but unmistakable dominance. He chose their seats, adjusted the overhead bin without seeking her input, and even spoke for her when a flight attendant asked if they needed anything. His voice carried a firmness that bordered on insistence, suggesting a dynamic that made Sandra uneasy. ‘Who was he to her?’ 

Even though everything looked okay on the outside, Sandra felt in her gut that something was off. She really wanted to help the woman, who seemed very uncomfortable, but wasn’t sure how. ‘What exactly is wrong?’ she wondered, feeling a bit uncertain. Since the flight was going to be 13 hours long, Sandra knew she had time to figure things out. She decided she needed to watch carefully and figure out the best way to help, making sure to do it gently and without drawing too much attention.

Sandra planned to approach the woman right after she was done serving drinks. She thought of a good excuse ahead of time, just in case her colleagues got curious about what she was doing. She decided she’d wait for the perfect moment when the man accompanying her went to the restroom, so she could talk to the woman privately.

As Sandra kept an eye on the man and woman, her patience was wearing thin. She was on high alert, waiting for just the right moment when the man would get up, perhaps to stretch his legs or use the restroom. That would be her chance to step in and check on the woman.

She couldn’t help but notice the woman’s hands. They were busy, constantly moving in a way that seemed out of place. She wasn’t just fiddling with the hem of her shirt or tapping her fingers aimlessly; it looked almost like she was trying to tell her something. ‘Is she signaling me?’ Sandra wondered, her curiosity piqued.

Her thoughts raced as she planned what to say to her, how to appear friendly and not scare her off. ‘Maybe a joke about the food, or a comment about how long the flight is?’ she thought, trying to come up with the perfect icebreaker.

Amidst the constant background buzz of the cabin, with passengers chatting and the sporadic beep of a call button, Sandra found herself tuning out the noise. Her attention was laser-focused on the woman and the man beside her, their pairing striking her as odd. ‘I hope he’s not her partner,’ Sandra thought, feeling a mix of concern and disbelief. ‘That just wouldn’t sit right…’ With each sip the man took of his beer, Sandra kept a watchful eye, silently willing him to leave his seat.

The smell of coffee drifted from the galley, mingling with the recycled air, reminding Sandra of the long hours ahead on this flight. She made mental notes of the woman’s actions—the way she looked out the window, then quickly glanced around the cabin, and the nervous tap of her foot. These small details stood out to Sandra, signaling that all was not well.

As she pushed the drink cart down the aisle, she kept stealing glances at the woman, trying to catch her eye and offer a reassuring smile. She was ready to act, to offer help or just a listening ear, as soon as she saw an opening. Her resolve was clear, backed by a mix of concern and a dash of hope that she could make a difference.

After waiting for almost two hours, Sandra finally saw her opportunity when the man went to the bathroom. Seizing the chance, Sandra concocted a quick excuse to approach the woman.  She turned to her colleague, “Hey, I think I left my pen near that seat by the window, mind if I check real quick while you handle this row?” Her voice was calm, masking the urgency she felt inside. Her colleague, busy with the cart and unaware of Sandra’s true intent, simply nodded, allowing Sandra to move toward the woman under the pretense of searching for a lost item.

Drawing a deep, steadying breath, Sandra discreetly slipped a pen into her pocket, adopting an air of nonchalance as she approached the woman’s seat. That’s when the peculiar detail that had initially piqued her interest became even clearer: the woman was making unusual hand gestures. Sandra remembered observing the same motions earlier, right when they were boarding and the man was busy with the overhead compartments. Here they were again, these deliberate, silent signals that seemed almost like a language of their own. It struck Sandra that the woman might be trying to communicate something important with these movements.

Sandra approached with care, noticing the woman’s startled reaction swiftly shift to a pretense of interest in the scenery outside the window. In a gentle move, Sandra feigned a casual demeanor, subtly leaning forward. “I think this might be yours,” she softly said, presenting the pen, which she carefully placed on a small piece of paper on the woman’s tray table, making it appear unintentional.

With an awareness of the fleeting opportunity, Sandra swiftly added, “If there’s anything you need, feel free to jot it down, okay?” She infused her voice with a whisper of reassurance and warmth, encouraging the woman to communicate in secrecy if needed. Her eyes lingered on her, searching for any hint of response or comfort in her reaction. Yet, as she hoped to bridge the gap, Sandra spotted something moving out of the corner of her eye.

It was the man. He was returning to his seat and instantly, his eyes landed on the pen and piece of paper, now positioned in front of the woman. His eyebrows went up in surprise, and he looked at them closely, trying to figure out what was going on. He looked from the paper and pen to the woman, and then his eyes landed on Sandra, standing not too far away.

Sandra let out a sigh, realizing her plan hadn’t worked. She had hoped this would help gain the woman’s trust, but she hadn’t even acknowledged her presence. Now, this man was staring at her as if she had done something wrong when all she wanted was to help. Sandra suddenly felt really uncomfortable under the piercing gaze of this man. She needed to get out of there.

Sandra mustered a quick, apologetic smile towards the man, trying to convey a sense of harmless intent. “Just thought this belonged to her,” she explained with a nervous chuckle, attempting to diffuse the tension. Without waiting for his response, she retreated back to the safety of the galley, her heart racing. From her new vantage point, she continued to observe the pair, ensuring she maintained a safe distance to avoid arousing further suspicion.

Despite the setback, Sandra’s attention didn’t waver. She noted how the woman resumed her mysterious hand gestures whenever the man’s attention was elsewhere—engrossed in his phone or gazing out the window. These movements weren’t random; they were deliberate, almost like a silent language only she spoke. ‘Is she trying to tell me something?’ Sandra wondered, her instincts telling her there was more to these signals than met the eye.