Page 194 of Triplet Babies for my Ex's Best Friend

I feel a small flutter of nerves. “I could be wrong.”

“Show me.”

Okay then. Bossy pilot voice has entered the chat.

I sit forward, tracing the timeline with my finger. “Here. This one is labeled as pilot response delay, right?”

“Yes.”

“But right before it, the system logs a warning, then a correction, then another warning almost immediately.”

“Yes.”

“And in the demo, that same thing happens here. Warning, correction, warning. But in the demo notes, you marked that as the system creating its own escalation.”

His eyes move over the documents.

“And,” I continue, gaining confidence, “if Megan was really as good as you say she was?—”

“She was.”

“Then why would the report treat that pause like she did nothing? Couldn’t it have been that the system was already fighting her?”

The room goes very quiet. I look at him, and his control looks like something he’s having to actively hold in place.

“Ethan?”

He takes the page from me now. He turns back to the laptop, pulls up another file, and begins typing.

I wait, heart thudding. “What did I say?”

“You noticed the timing.”

“I noticed… paper?”

“The sequence between the automated correction and the recorded pilot input.”

“That sounds better. Let’s use yours.”

He pulls up a flight timeline in terrifying detail. Columns of timestamps. Inputs. Warnings. Autopilot status. Manual controls. System response. Then another screen beside it. The demo simulation.

He aligns them.

My skin prickles because even I can see it now. The spaces between events are wrong. Or maybe they’re right in the wrong way.

“That gap,” I say quietly.

“Yes.”

“It’s not her hesitating.”

His jaw tightens. “No.”

“What is it?”

He stares at the screen. “The system accepted her input late.”

My stomach drops. “What does that mean?”