The jet ride home was silent.

No one looked back as the city disappeared beneath the clouds, Chicago shrinking into something distant.

Seatbelts clicked. Engines roared. The cabin settled into a low, constant hum.

Alec sat rigid in his seat, his jaw clenched.

Roman sat two rows ahead, staring straight, his hands folded together like he was holding himself in place.

Salima sat between them, her posture composed, her face unreadable.

Gayatri watched her quietly.

Salima hadn’t said much since they boarded. She hadn’t argued with her sister. She hadn’t fussed over Alec. She hadn’t even scolded her mother for packing too much.

She just sat there, phone resting face-down...