Chapter 2 #3
“It’s a podcast,” Maya continues.
I stare at her.
“A podcast,” I repeat, arching a skeptical eyebrow.
Jax perks up. “Oh, that’s actually kind of interesting. They’re going to have an episode on us or something?”
“It’s a little more than that,” Maya says. “She’s—”
“She?” Taylor cuts in. “Okay, now I’m really listening.”
“She’s coming on the road with us to develop a podcast miniseries. Follow us and get to know our story and give us a much larger platform,” Maya continues, a sparkle in her eye when she mentions the potential reach.
“It sounds smart to me,” Jax shrugs. “We’re already documenting everything. I film it, you narrate it, I post it. It feels like it rarely gets more than a hundred views. This just… expands that.”
“It changes things though,” I counter, trying to be cautious about what this could do if we’re portrayed the wrong way. “It puts someone else in control.”
Taylor leans forward, elbows on her knees. “Well, who is she?”
Maya hesitates for half a second.
“Daisy Bennett.”
Jax’s brows shoot up. “Wait. The Daisy Bennett?”
Taylor gasps. “The sex girl? The one who interviews people?”
I blink. “Who?”
Three heads turn toward me.
“You don’t know who Daisy Bennett is?” Jax asks.
“No,” I say. “Should I?”
“She’s huge,” Maya says. “Massive audience. Loyal following. She’s built an entire platform on understanding people—how they think, how they connect, why they believe what they believe. Trust me, she’s not here to tear us apart,” she says. “She’s here to understand. She’s actually into this stuff.”
I shake my head, pacing now. “This is exactly how things get twisted, how we lose control of—”
“We don’t have control,” she cuts in.
I stop. “What?”
“We don’t have control over how people perceive this,” she says. “We never have. Right now, we’re just… absent from the conversation.”
Fuck, she’s right.
Jax nods slowly. “She’s got a point.”
Taylor shrugs. “I mean, worst case, she thinks we’re crazy, just like most people do. Best case, she gets it.”
“And if she does think we’re crazy?” I press.
“Then nothing changes,” Maya says. “We keep going. Same as we are now.”
I look at her.
Really look.
There is certainty in her expression. Like she’s already thought this through ten steps ahead.
The Machine feels smaller suddenly. Tighter.
Like the walls are inching in.
“A podcaster,” I say, quieter now. “Following us around. Recording everything.”
“Not everything,” Maya says. “Boundaries can be set.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I reply, an onboarding document already taking shape in my mind.
“Give her a chance. She’s built an empire doing what she does,” Maya continues. “And she’s good at it. But she’s looking for something new. Something real.”
“And you think that’s us?” I ask, laughing. Taylor and Jax join in.
“I know it is,” she says.
Silence stretches between us.
I glance around. At Taylor, who looks excited. At Jax, who looks curious. At Maya, who looks… steady. Waiting. Sure. Trusting me to decide. As much as I don’t want to be made a fool, it is in our best interest to be able to afford to keep a roof, albeit mobile, over our heads.
Owen’s voice echoes in the back of my head.
Don’t forget they’re following you.
I swallow.
“Okay, I’m in,” I say.
Maya blinks. “You’re in?”
“Conditional,” I add quickly. “She doesn’t interfere. She doesn’t direct. She observes.”
“She will,” Maya says.
“And if she turns this into something that undermines what we’re doing—”
“She won’t,” Maya says again, with even more resolve this time.
“You don’t know that,” I reply.
“I trust my read on people,” she says.
I hold her gaze.
“Well, I trust you.” I nod at Maya, smiling.
Jax grins. “Oh, this is going to be good.”
Taylor claps her hands. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
I exhale, already feeling the shift happening.
The loss of control, and the introduction of something unknown into something I’ve kept carefully contained.
“When does she get here?” I ask.
Maya hesitates. “…soon,” she says.
I close my eyes. Of course she does.
“Alright,” I mutter, pushing off the counter. “Then let’s get moving in the morning. If she’s coming, she’s seeing us in the field. Not sitting around waiting for something to happen.”
Taylor grins. “Now that I like.”
Maya nods, already shifting into planning mode. “I’ll get on it.”
Where Taylor is sharp and electric—two things needed in a driver—Maya is steady and warm. And though I’m not happy, I do appreciate what she’s trying to do.
I stare at the map, tracing the convergence point with my finger.
Maybe this is what we need. Or maybe it’s the thing that breaks it.
Either way…
“We’re not slowing down for her,” I say.
Maya’s dark brown eyes meet my eyes in a friendly challenge. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”
Good. Because if this is happening, she’s stepping into our world.
And I’m not changing how we chase the truth just because someone’s watching.
I zoom in on the map, tracing the convergence point where four states meet, where stories overlap, where patterns start to form if you look close enough.
“Get some rest,” I add, stepping back from the screen. “We’ve got a long drive.”
They start to disperse—Taylor grabs snacks, Jax is still half-focused on his footage, and Maya is already typing out what I know will be a perfectly structured plan.
I linger for a second.
Looking at the Machine and what we’ve built together. With a content sigh, I turn off the monitor, letting the screen go dark.
Tomorrow, we move.
And this time… it needs to lead somewhere.