Clara scoffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “Well, that doesn’t make it any less terrifying. I don’t care what kind of dog he is. I’m scared of them, and no one seems to care about that.” Her voice rose slightly, drawing the attention of a few nearby passengers.
A few passengers in her vicinity exchanged looks, clearly uncomfortable with Clara’s behavior. One woman, sitting directly across the aisle from Clara, leaned toward her seatmate. “She’s overreacting. It’s just a dog,” she whispered, barely audible.