Voss continued, almost gently, “Lucas, ask your mother why Ghostwing responded only to one pilot’s neural signature. Ask her why they shut the program down after you were born.”
My skin went cold.
“Mom?” I whispered.
Voss’s image glitched.
“She saved Carter,” he said. “But she saved you first.”
The monitors died.
For several seconds, the only sound was rain hammering the roof.
Then, from somewhere above us, a low mechanical hum rolled across the sky.
Aunt June grabbed the shotgun.
Mom grabbed my arm.
The lights went out.
In the darkness, the cabin shook as something passed overhead, something huge, silent, and invisible except for the rain bending around its shape.
Mom pulled me close and whispered the words that changed my life forever.
“Lucas, your father didn’t die in a crash.”
Outside, the invisible aircraft circled back.
And from the dead monitors, Voss’s voice returned one last time.
