“I need to talk to the pilot,” I call out to Sally. “Now.”
Then I’m reaching for my burner phone, before they reach the plane, tapping out Grady’s number.
I’m on the last digit—the very last digit—when Daniel walks out of the cockpit. He is walking toward me.
“Ms. Roberts? Is everything okay?”
“What are we doing in Miami?”
My tone is sharp, almost hostile. And I can see Daniel react to it, his brow tightening.
“We ran into a bit of weather,” he says.
A bit of weather?Wouldn’t a bit of weather have taken us somewhere closer to New York than Miami? Shouldn’t we be stopping somewhere like Pennsylvania? Delaware at the farthest?
“All the way along the Eastern Seaboard?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
My heart starts racing faster. Who knows exactly what Daniel has been told: Daniel, who might not even understand that the plane being diverted here could be a setup. Or worse (unlikely, but worse), Daniel, who could have made a deal with the organization, selling out Owen. Selling Bailey and me out along with him.
“OPF can attend to us immediately,” Daniel says. “They were the only airport who could. This will ensure we stay on time for your arrival to Paris, which I’m sure is your primary concern here…”
He says this last part loudly, as if saying it for Sally. Sally, who is now standing in the galley, pretending not to listen, but moving closer to us. Moving closer and clearly listening. He says this partforSally, so she thinks I’m just another entitled passenger—not someone suspicious.
I look back out the window. The fuel truck is nearly beside the plane now. I’m running out of time. This is the moment to decide. If I call Grady now—if I tap the call button—then someone will come and help. I can keep the plane doors locked until they get here. I can hold my ground until they send us someone safe.
Someone safe to get us out of here. But someone who probably won’t be taking us any closer to Owen.
I turn back to Daniel, his hands folded in front of him, but one hand is shaking. I can see it shaking. And I see it in his eyes—what he wants me to understand. This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t his plan, at least. That he, like me, is nervous about what it means that we’ve been diverted here.
Daniel is flying us to Paris because he can. Because he wants to help us, to help Owen. Because his brother is Owen’s best friend. But beyond that, Daniel is out of his depth.
It nearly undoes me. I look down at my phone, zero in on the call button. Then I look over at Bailey. Bailey, who is staring back at me.
I’ve shielded her the best I can, but she knows enough to know that Miami is not good. She knows that the organization’s upper management is based out of here. She knows enough to know this is the last place we want to be.
This is the thing about organizing your life the way I do—about knowing that you are only safe when you are completely prepared. When you are the one who takes control. In the rare moment where you aren’t in control, you feel like you are giving someone else the chance to undo it: all the ways you work to protect her.
“What the fuck?” Bailey says.
I put my hand on her shoulder. I put my hand on her shoulder and I try to calm her—to let her know I’ve got this.
I try to believe that myself.
“No one deplanes,” I say. “And the plane door stays closed, understood? So that we can take off as quickly as possible.”
Daniel offers a small nod. “Understood.”
Then, he heads back to the cockpit—past Sally, who will certainly be telling her new boyfriend later about the entitled woman she had on board today. Sally, who I pray will have the opportunity to say this.
You make a million decisions. You make a million decisions andone of them can undo you. One of them can save you, but any one of them can undo you. Which decision will this be?
“Grandpa said we should never come to Miami,” Bailey whispers. “Isn’t that the one thing he said?”
I nod. “I know.”
My heart cracks in my chest, thinking of Nicholas. Nicholas, who I still can’t believe is gone. Nicholas, who would be so upset that I’ve allowed his granddaughter to end up here, even for a moment. I can feel his arm on my shoulder, I can hear what he’d say if he were here:We need to get her out of this.
