The next morning, Atlas was in the car waiting for the driver to unload his luggages, so they could drive to the hanger, when the other side of the car door opened, and Aveline slid in.
"Good morning," she said.
He looked up, a pool of wrinkles forming in his forehead. "Good morning–" his ears twitched in wait for an explanation.
"Didn't you say we would be leaving this morning?"
"Yeah, but you didn't confirm with me, so I thought you'd be staying back."
"Well you thought wrong, Mr Sinclair." She reclined into her seat, and pulled out her phone.
"Hmmm," he bobbed his head, before tearing his gaze off her. "I guess we're going home then."
The drive to the hangar was silent. Too silent for Atlas liking.
He watched her gaze fixate hard on her phone all through, and it got him curious.
If she was texting his cousins, she'd be a lot more giggly.
Could she be texting, Landon? Or maybe the other guy— Seth?
He had read through the documents Dez forwarded him.
