The woman—who would soon be known to everyone as “the entitled mom”—snapped her gum and rolled her eyes.

“No, no, no. That’s where I need to sit. My son doesn’t want the middle seat. You need to move to the back so we can sit together.”

“I’m sorry, but I paid for this seat specifically. I’d rather stay here.”, Naomi replied.

The little boy shuffled uncomfortably, clutching his tablet. Yet the mother leaned closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper that was still loud enough for other passengers to hear:

“Come on. Don’t make this a thing. Just be nice and give it up.”

Within moments, other passengers began sneaking glances, their eyes darting between the two women.

Naomi’s chest tightened, but she kept her tone steady. “I’m not moving. I booked this seat weeks ago.”