CHAPTER EIGHTEEN MAKAYLA
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
M AKAYLA
Makayla opens her eyes. The few minutes since Aubrey agreed to talk to the captain feel more like hours. She presses the flight attendant call button above her head. The fasten seat belt sign is still on, even though the turbulence is less noticeable.
She leans into the aisle to look behind her. No one is coming. She sits forward, stretching her neck to try and see through the crack in the curtain separating her from business class.
This is ridiculous. Liam’s life is in danger, and I’m being told to sit here and keep calm.
She unbuckles herself, gets up, and yanks the curtain aside before slamming into Aubrey.
“Oh!” the attendant shrieks, placing a hand over her heart. “I told you to stay seated.” She raises a palm in the air, seemingly registering the spark of anger on Makayla’s face. “But I talked to the captain, and he agreed to speak with you. I’ll take you to the phone up front.”
Makayla silently follows her through the well-lit business and first-class cabins, scanning the floor of each row and every seated passenger. They move past the first-class galley and lavatories, and Aubrey stops outside the cockpit door. With her back to Makayla, she lifts the phone hanging from the wall.
“I have the mother of the missing child here to speak with you.” She glances over her shoulder at Makayla. “I’ll put her on.” She pivots, extending the phone to Makayla.
Makayla snatches it from her hand. “My name’s Makayla. And I’d like to know when we’re going to land.”
“Hi, Makayla. I’m Miguel.”
His calm tone does nothing to soothe her.
“The FBI has requested we divert to the closest major US airport,” the captain says.
Makayla leans against the cockpit door. Thank God.
“However, there’s a severe thunderstorm warning and tornado watch right now from Minneapolis to Chicago. I can’t risk the lives of everyone on board to divert.”
What about Liam’s life? “But we have to find my son!”
“I understand that, ma’am. But every part of this aircraft where your son could be is accessible while we’re still in the air. Landing isn’t going to change that. We don’t need to be on the ground to search the entire plane, and I can’t risk everyone’s life to do so.”
Makayla gapes at the cockpit door. “But the flight attendants aren’t police! They aren’t trained in performing searches for missing children.” She feels the flight attendant’s eyes on her from the side. “They obviously haven’t been able to find out who’s taken him. Every person on this plane needs to be searched, along with their bags, again . We need help—my son could be dead before we get to LaGuardia.” Saying it out loud makes her feel like she might throw up.
The captain breathes into the phone. “I understand your need to find him. We are in contact with the FBI, and they are working with us to find your son.”
“I saw on the map we are north of Winnipeg. Can’t you land there?”
“Winnipeg is also within the area affected by the thunderstorm, so I can’t risk landing there either. But if the situation changes, we can reevaluate.”
Makayla suddenly feels cold. “What do you mean?”
“Well, like if he’s found on board and in need of emergency medical attention, then we’ll reevaluate the best course of action.”
“One of the crew told me there’s a luggage compartment accessible through the cockpit. Have you checked down there? Just in case ...”
“No one’s been in the cockpit besides me, the copilot, and one of the flight attendants since takeoff. So it’s not possible for your baby to be down there.”
Makayla leans forward, pressing her forehead against the wall. “Could you check it anyway, just to make sure? I know I can’t come into the cockpit, but can you send me a photo of that compartment when you check?”
“There’s no way your child could be down there. I’m needed on the radio,” the captain says, “but I can assure you we are doing everything possible to help find your son. We’re still expecting some rough turbulence. For your safety, please return to your seat.”
Makayla numbly hangs up the receiver. Aubrey steps aside for her to move past the narrow passageway. Makayla meets the wary gazes of several passengers as she slowly returns to her bulkhead row.
The girl seated across from her has taken off her headphones and is intently scrolling through her phone. Rose looks to be asleep a few rows back. Jemma, leaning close to her husband, is saying something in a low voice but stops when she spots Makayla, offering a look of sympathy before Makayla sinks to her seat.
She stares at Liam’s empty bassinet. This is insane. How can the crew act as though nothing has happened?
She removes the screen again from her armrest and pulls up the flight tracker. If they continue all the way to New York, there’s nearly three hours left in their flight. The aircraft suddenly drops. Makayla feels weightless as she’s lifted away from her seat before slamming down hard when the plane corrects for the drop in altitude. Begrudgingly, she reaches for her seat belt and secures it across her lap.
Liam is on this plane—somewhere. She’s not waiting three hours to find him. If the crew won’t help her, she’ll have to find him herself.
She digs inside the side pouch of her diaper bag for her phone. She’ll call Jack again. Maybe he can somehow convince the FBI to get the flight to land sooner. And get the crew to do more to help her find him.
“Where am I?”
Makayla cocks her head toward the familiar voice bleeding from the girl’s phone across the aisle. Its speakers emit a short laugh. Pink Headphones lifts her head, her eyes widening when they meet Makayla’s.
“You’re on Mornings with Sally .”
Makayla gapes at the girl’s device. It’s been a long time since she’s heard her mother speak, but she would know her voice anywhere.
“I don’t understand. How did I get here?”
Those were some of the last words she spoke before she died.