I pressed a handkerchief to my stinging eyes, taking a deep breath. I didn’t care who was sitting next to me—I had no energy left to spare for curiosity.

But then, my father appeared, his voice dripping with uncharacteristic humility. "Mr. Scott, I apologize for the inconvenience. The VIP seats are over there. If you wouldn’t mind—"

"No need. I’ll stay here," the man addressed as Mr. Scott replied, his tone calm and measured, but his words carried the ...