Page 196 of Aviatrix

He stands there in the doorway, Thea at his side.

I freeze.

What do you say? How do you tell someone that the most important person in their life is gone?

“What are you trying to figure out?” he asks again, confusion and concern lacing every word.

I take a shaky step forward. I have to be the one to say it. Gary left me with his final words for this moment.

Scooter’s eyes search mine. “What is it?”

Thea reaches for his hand, her expression shifting as she looks around. When she realizes who’s missing, devastation floods her face.

“Your dad—” I begin.

“He’s gone?” Scooter speaks over me.

I nod. “He stayed behind. To save lives.”

Tears well instantly in his eyes. “That sounds like him.”

My heart aches. “He wanted me to tell you… that he loves you.”

Scooter bends at the waist, hands on his knees, a sob tearing from his chest. Thea rubs his back, a quiet constant in a storm.

And I just stand there, holding my grief like a weight in my chest I’ll never fully put down.

The small crowd in the mess hall disperses, giving us space.

Scooter’s tears don’t stop, but eventually he straightens, his eyes red-rimmed and distant. “I need a day,” he says hoarsely. “We’ll regroup, and then we’ll talk about what my dad was really working on.”

“Take all the time you need,” I tell him.

“I need to call my brother,” he adds. “And my uncle.”

Then, he’s gone, and the room feels like it’s holding its breath.

No one knows where to look. At the floor. At each other. At the empty space where Atlas should be standing.

Thea steps forward. “I know you’re probably not ready to talk, Nova, but I need to.”

This team has been split wide open. Maybe it took losing Gary to realize just how fragile we’ve become. How much we still owe one another. Even after the betrayals. Even when the truth comes too late.

“I have time,” I say.

She gestures toward the door. “Now?”

I nod, then glance back at Eli. His expression is tight and focused, but his eyes meet mine with a flicker of something tender. He’s planning something. I know that look.

He shrugs. I try to smile. But I’m not sure I remember how to anymore.

Thea leads me to our room. I collapse onto the bed, body aching, heart numb.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “For everything. For the part I played. For lying.”

Her curls are matted to her face, damp with sweat. She looks like hell. But she also looks like she fought like hell for us. She did.

“I forgive you,” I say.