It was the captain, asking whether everything was under control. I told him it was, and that I would explain later. Behind me, Jonah settled into the seat beside Amira with the baby against his shoulder, humming a tune. Within five minutes, the little boy was asleep. Amira whispered thank you again and again. A woman across the aisle began to clap quietly, and then the whole business cabin joined in, until Mr. Voss slid down in his seat.

I brought Amira a glass of water and a blanket. Jonah stayed beside her for the next two hours, even offering to wake early if the baby cried. He told her he was heading to Frankfurt with his father for a business conference, but he had not wanted to come. He had been dreading the trip for weeks. Amira told him she was going to meet her husband, a doctor who had been working overseas for a year. She had not seen him since the baby was born.

Mr. Voss sat alone in 2A for the rest of the flight. About three hours before landing, he pressed the call button, very softly this time. He asked me to bring tea. When I returned, he looked smaller. He said his son had never spoken to him that way before, and that he had no good answer. I told him sincerely that I did not think his son hated him. I thought his son wanted him to be better.

Before we landed, Mr. Voss walked to row 3 and stood in front of Amira. In a low voice, in front of everyone, he said, “I am sorry. I was cruel, and I was wrong.” Amira nodded, and Jonah smiled for the first time in nine hours. In the terminal, Amira’s husband ran toward them with flowers, and Jonah placed the sleeping baby in his father’s arms. I got a handwritten note a month later from Mr. Voss, thanking me for staying calm. I keep it in my crew bag.