“You’ve got a knack for this,” Kaz says, pointing at the throttle.
Dar giggles. “Faster?”
“You wanna go faster?” Kaz leans in, mock-conspiratorial. “Gotta pull back at just the right—yep, likethat—look at you!”
I should feel proud.
Instead, I feel like my chest’s caving in.
Because it’s too easy. Toonatural. Dar didn’t even blink when Kaz walked in. Just lit up like his whole body knew something his brain hadn’t figured out yet.
I turn away before they spot me.
I head for the tower—legs moving fast like I can outrun the realization clawing up my throat.
The flight tower’s quiet. It always is mid-cycle, when the engineers are between runs and the flight logs are syncing. The console hums softly, backlit with blue. I rest my hands on the edge of the screen and let my forehead touch the glass. Cool. Steady.
I breathe.
In. Out.
Try to find the rhythm again.
But my mind’s spinning.
Kaz hasno idea. None.
But hefeltsomething. I saw it in the way he looked at Dar. Not just curious. Not just polite.Familiar.
I clench my jaw.
If he pushes—even a little—I don’t know if I’ll be able to lie convincingly. Not to him. Not now.
A knock snaps me out of it.
Verzius. Leaning in the doorway like the damn universe sent him just to remind me how badly I’m messing this up.
He raises an eyebrow. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I might as well have.”
He walks in without asking. Pulls a chair over. Doesn’t sit.
“What’s going on?”
I don’t answer.
He waits.
He always waits.
Suddenly, low and tight, I say, “Dar and Kaz… they?—”
“Connected?” he finishes for me. “Fast?”
I nod.
Verzius crosses his arms. “Not surprising.”
