Page 75 of Aviatrix

My throat stings. I hear what he doesn’t say. What he maybe can’t say. These walls, this land, the people inside… they’re the last threads of his mother. The only place that’s ever felt like home. The ones who raised him, loved him, stood by him. They aren’t just family. They’re his foundation.

And Eli? He’s trusting me with them.

I reach for his hand and give it a firm squeeze.

As he laces his fingers with mine, we walk toward the house in silence, shoulder to shoulder, both of us pretending we aren’t already crumbling under the weight we carry.

Eli doesn’t knock. He twists the knob, and the old wooden door creaks as it swings open.

“Anyone home?” he calls out, just as I let go of his hand.

“Eli!” a high, excited shriek comes from somewhere deeper in the house.

A chestnut-haired girl barrels down the hallway at full speed and launches herself into Eli’s arms. He catches her without hesitation, hugging her tight. She clings to him for a moment before stepping back and scanning his face like she hasn’t seen him in years.

“Well, well, well,” she says with a smirk that’s pure Eli. “Look at our little Eli, all grown up.”

“I’ve been grown,” he mutters, rolling his eyes.

Then, she turns to me, as if just realizing I exist.

“And who is this?” she asks, raising a suspicious eyebrow. The cramped foyer suddenly feels even smaller.

“This is Captain Kinley Quay,” Eli says, stepping aside to make space. I maneuver around him and offer a smile. “Quay, this is my cousin, Willa.”

Willa eyes me like I might bite. “Are you his girlfriend?”

I laugh as I recall his desperate words from the driveway. These people are all I have. So, I lie. “No. Just an old acquaintance from the Academy.”

“Why are you traveling with him then?” she presses.

“What’s with the interrogation?” Eli groans, exasperated.

“You’ve brought home exactly zero women,” she retorts. “She’s obviously important.”

He scoffs, dodging the comment. “Where’s Aunt Lise?”

I should brush it off like he did. But the word important lingers, echoing in places I wish it wouldn’t.

“Tending the garden,” Willa says, her green eyes so much like his narrowing at him.

“And Uncle Rod?”

“VA’s club,” she says, already bored and examining her nails. “Weekly meeting.”

“Uncle Rod was in Afghanistan,” Eli explains to me quietly.

“How long are you staying?” she asks Eli.

“A few days,” he says. “Can Quay crash in your room?”

Willa snorts. “Sure. But she gets the floor. I need my beauty sleep.”

I laugh. Eli doesn’t.

“Aunt Lise’s going to make you sleep on the couch,” Willa warns. “You know how she feels about premarital relations, you heathen.”

The back of Eli’s neck flushes bright red. “Don’t say those words,” he scolds.