Chapter 2
Settled back into her seat, Maya pulled her knees up to her chest inside the oversized blue hoodie, letting the rough denim of her jeans press against her shins. The cabin hummed with the steady, white-noise drone of the twin jet engines, a sound that usually lulled passengers to sleep, but Maya felt entirely wired. Her fingers brushed against the front pocket of her patterned pink backpack, feeling the hard rectangular outline of the device inside. It was cold, metallic, and possessed a quiet gravity that frightened her. She thought back to the terminal in Chicago, the rushing crowds, the announcements echoing through the vaulted ceiling, and the frantic stranger in the tan trench coat who had grabbed her shoulder. He had looked terrified, his eyes darting toward the security checkpoint before he shoved the drive into her backpack, whispering that her father would know what to do with it. But her father wasn't on this flight; he was supposed to meet them at baggage claim in Seattle, waiting at the end of a trip that had already felt too long. Maya looked across the aisle at the empty seats, then glanced forward toward Elena Vance. The blonde woman in the grey suit was typing furiously on a sleek silver tablet, her bare foot tucked back into a sensible black loafer as if shedding her vulnerability before getting back to business. Elena looked like someone who commanded rooms filled with people twice her age, someone who never made mistakes and never showed weakness. Yet, Maya had caught a flicker of panic in Elena’s eyes right before the woman spoke to her, a brief tightening of the jaw that suggested the stern exterior was entirely armor. Maya knew about armor; she had worn it ever since her parents separated, learning to read the subtle shifts in tone and posture that adults thought they kept hidden. She reached into her hoodie pocket and pulled out the small cracked plastic propeller, turning it over and over in her small palm. It was the only thing left of the wooden model airplane her grandfather had carved for her before he passed away, and holding it grounded her amidst the dizzying altitude. She took a slow, deep breath, deciding to heed Elena’s command to stay quiet, not out of fear, but out of strategy. The adults on this plane were playing a game she didn't yet understand, but she held the most valuable piece on the board, tucked safely behind a row of worn zippers and pink nylon fabric.
