Michael Harrington prided himself on first-class travel—quiet, spacious, elite. So when he saw the woman beside him, large and in his view, “taking up space,” his annoyance turned cruel. “Watch it,” he snapped as her elbow brushed his. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. He sneered. “You’re not a passenger—you’re cargo. Book two seats next time.” She turned to the window, silent...