“Do not answer.”
The woman continued.
“We have been waiting for you.”
Maya reached for the microphone.
Ethan’s fighter rocked sharply beside them.
“Maya, don’t!”
She ignored him.
“Who are you?”
A pause.
Then the woman laughed softly.
“You still sound exactly the same.”
Maya frowned.
“Have we met?”
“Oh, Maya.”
The voice softened.
“You used to call me Mom.”
Maya’s hand fell away from the microphone.
Her mother had d/i/e/d when Maya was seventeen.
Car @ccident.
Closed casket.
Maya remembered standing beside the grave while rain soaked through her black dress.
She remembered joining the Air Force two years later partly because there had been nothing left at home.
The woman spoke again.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
Lucas looked at Maya.
“Grandma?”
Maya could not move.
Outside the windshield, the storm finally broke.
Clouds opened.
Below them stretched mountains covered in snow.
And between those mountains, lights appeared.
