“I can help,” he said quietly.
A few passengers laughed nervously, assuming they had misheard him.
Someone muttered, “You’ve got to be kidding.”
Laura stared at the boy, panic sharpening her voice.
“This is serious,” she said. “We need someone who understands aircraft systems.”
The boy didn’t flinch.
“I do,” he replied.
Something about the steadiness in his tone made her hesitate. He did not look brave in the heroic sense; he looked pale, thin, and far too young to carry the responsibility he was claiming. Yet his eyes held the calm focus of someone who had already accepted the weight of what might happen next.
“How old are you?” she asked.
“Sixteen.”
Continue on the next page:
