Chapter 38

• ROBYN
• There’s a lounge tucked into the far end of the jet—sleek, quiet, and hidden like a well-kept secret. I must’ve walked past it three times without noticing, but now that I’m here, I take a second to absorb it. Everything inside looks effortlessly luxurious. Dark wood paneling, plush seating, gold accents. Subtle, but expensive.
• A man sits on one of the barstools, sipping a drink with a casual confidence that says he belongs everywhere and nowhere at once. The bartender behind the counter, dressed in a crisp white shirt and black vest, is wiping a glass like we’re in some upscale Manhattan bar, not thirty thousand feet in the air.