CHAPTER 2
The Letter in the Glove Box
AVERY
Avery did not drive home after losing her job.
She drove in the direction of home, passed the freeway exit, and continued until the city thinned into warehouse lots and half-built subdivisions. The severance folder remained on the passenger seat. Every time she glanced at it, the pages seemed to become more official.
At a red light, she opened the glove box looking for a charging cable and found an envelope addressed in her mother’s handwriting.
FOR THE DAY YOU THINK YOU HAVE TO SAVE US ALONE.
Avery stared at it until the light turned green and the driver behind her honked.
She pulled into an empty garden-center parking lot. The envelope had been there long enough for the corners to curl. Inside was a single sheet.
Avery,
If you are reading this, either I have failed to hide the bills or you have become suspicious, which is more likely.
The workshop belongs to a family, not a martyr. Do not exchange your whole future for our next payment without letting us argue first.
Your grandmother built balloons because she wanted ordinary people to see farther. She did not build them so one person would carry everyone.
Call me before you decide anything expensive.
Love,Mom
Avery read it twice, then placed it beside the severance agreement.
Her phone chimed with an Open Sky message.
TEAM UPDATE: REGISTERED PILOT BENJAMIN HOLT HAS WITHDRAWN FOR MEDICAL REASONS. TEAM ENTRY WILL BE RELEASED IF A QUALIFIED REPLACEMENT IS NOT CONFIRMED WITHIN 72 HOURS.
She called Ben. He answered from a hospital recovery room, embarrassed about a cardiac procedure he had tried to postpone.
“You are not apologizing for having an artery,” Avery told him.
“I thought I had another year.”
“You have another year because you did not fly.”
“I gave Marisol two names. Both declined. One said Windline puts too much responsibility on the pilot. The other said the workshop’s legal situation makes insurance ugly.”
Avery rested her forehead against the steering wheel.
“Do not take the Vantage severance just because of us,” Ben said.
“How do you know?”
“Your mother called.”
“Of course she did.”
“She also said to tell you the Open Sky entry was never meant to be a rescue lottery.”
“Everyone has become very wise while I am unemployed.”
Ben laughed, then winced. “There is one pilot Marisol might accept.”
“Who?”
“Nolan Cade.”
Avery knew the name. Anyone in balloon systems knew it. National champion. Commercial pilot. Photographer. Five years absent after a hard landing that injured his brother.
“He does not fly.”
“He does not compete. Different sentence.”
“Has he agreed?”
“No.”
“Then he is not a pilot option. He is a historical fact.”
Ben gave her Sam Cade’s number anyway.
Avery sat in the parking lot while evening gathered around the empty racks of trees.
Her choices looked impossible only when she arranged them in a line: accept the severance, sell Windline, save the workshop.
Reject it, fight, possibly lose everything.
Find a pilot, enter the Challenge, somehow create customers before the bank deadline.
Her mother’s letter said to call before deciding anything expensive.
Avery called Sam.
He listened to the proposal without interrupting.
“You want Nolan to return to competitive flight because your business needs visibility,” he said.
“Yes.”
“That is not noble.”
“No.”
“Good. I distrust noble pitches.”
“Will he consider it?”
“He will say no.”
“Can I ask him?”
“You can ask. I am not his guardian.”
Avery heard the warning.
“What would make him listen?”
“Do not tell him flying will heal him. Do not tell him I need him to. Do not tell him the crash was not his fault. He has heard all three from people who wanted a simpler ending.”
“What should I tell him?”
“The truth.”
Avery looked at the two papers on the passenger seat: the contract that promised stability and the letter that refused rescue.
“The truth,” she said, “is that my invention needs a pilot who respects what data cannot know. My family business may close. I have seventy-two hours. And I do not know whether entering the Challenge is brave or desperate.”
Sam was quiet.
“That,” he said, “might get you one tether test.”