Page 102 of Aviatrix

He won’t say. Can’t say.

A cool breeze curls through the hangar, lifting the ends of my hair. I fold my arms across my chest, shivering beneath the limestone ceiling—sandy and rough, carved by hand a century ago. There’s weight in these walls. History etched in every seam.

But I don’t belong to this place.

I miss Langdon.

The home it’s always been. The life I lost with it.

Eli zips up his flight suit, and I give him a moment before walking over.

“You’ll be careful?” I ask as he draws a steady breath.

“I’ll do what I can,” he says.

I try to smile, but I can’t quite muster one. “Are you sure I can’t go with you? VAL and I could use Stealth Mode. We could fly invisible, under the radar. Get you wherever you need to go safely.”

“Where I’m going, even Stealth Mode won’t protect me,” he says grimly.

My heart sinks to the concrete floor. “Where?”

He swallows hard, the cords in his neck tightening. “You need to talk to the Colonel about your mom,” he says, sidestepping the question. “He can help find her. Get her here.”

I nod. “Yeah, I’ll try.”

“You need to eat and rest, Quay,” he says. “You think best after sleep and a hot meal. Be sharp. Be ready. They will make contact again. And I think…” He trails off. “You need to tell the Colonel about that.”

I offer a weak smile. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I don’t trust him.”

“I don’t either,” Eli admits. “But he should know.”

My chest still aches from my conversation with Lark. The one from a few hours ago. He accused me of sleeping with Eli. I didn’t. We’ve only kissed. But even that feels… not right. I know it’s not wrong. I know I didn’t cheat. But Lark made me feel like this thing with Eli is somehow criminal.

“Keep your chin up,” Eli says, his fingers brushing along my jaw. “Help the Alien Warfare team where you can. Avoid Sasha at all costs. And dig into Walker.”

“I will,” I promise. “I’ll try.”

Eli glances around, then steps closer and pulls me into his arms. I rest my head against his chest as his hands slide slowly down my back. I breathe him in. Citrus and mint and years of memories that make this goodbye feel heavier than all the ones before.

“What if you don’t…” My heart splinters. I can’t say the word.

Survive.

“What if you don’t?” he echoes softly.

I pull back just enough to look up at him. “You were right.”

He gives me a lopsided smile. “About what?”

“Different coasts.” I shrug. “We were never going to work.”

“Quay,” he says, gentle, as I lick my lips.

“I blamed you for hurting me. But you were just trying to do the right thing,” I admit quietly. “I see that now.”

“Didn’t feel like the right thing at the time,” he murmurs, holding me tighter. “You’ll eat and sleep while I’m gone?”

“I’m a grown-ass woman,” I reply. “I’ll eat and sleep.”