The red light on Ethan’s tablet pulsed with a relentless, hypnotic rhythm, casting a harsh, crimson glare across the cabin’s polished wood paneling.
The gentle hum of the jet's turbines suddenly felt deceptive, a fragile illusion of safety floating thousands of feet above the earth while an invisible net closed in around them.
Bella stood up from her seat, her movements measured and deliberate, though her pulse hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird.
She stepped past the sleeping children without waking them and approached Ethan, her eyes locked onto the glowing screen.
"Define 'locked down,'" she said, her voice dropping into a dangerous, low register that brooked no hesitation.
"We aren't just being tracked," Ethan replied, turning the tablet so she could read the scrolling
