The Quantum Tech private jet touched down at Lincoln Heights Regional Airport like a fucking spaceship landing in suburban America. Through the small window, I watched familiar territory scroll past - the same cracked tarmac, the same chain-link fences, the same blue-collar infrastructure I'd grown up around.
Except now I was seeing it from inside a multimillion-dollar aircraft, wearing a custom suit, and carrying enough wealth to buy half the neighborhood.
The cognitive dissonance was still brutal, but honestly? I was starting to enjoy the mindfuck.
Margaret sat across from me, looking more composed than she had since the kidnapping but still carrying that haunted edge around her eyes. She'd been quiet for most of the flight, occasionally reaching out to squeeze Charlotte's hand like she was making sure her daughter was real and safe.
