Page 78 of Rafi

“Your family is waiting for you, Maxine. I’ll make arrangements for you to reunite with them as soon as possible.”

She grabs my hand, squeezes it reassuringly, as though afraid to let me go.

“What about you, Tayana?”

“What about me?”

“What’s going to happen to you?”

I lift my gaze and skirt it down the aisle to where Anton and Igor are discussing something in hushed tones. More like arguing in hushed tones, but they can kill each other for all the fucks I give at this point.

“Me too, Maxine. It’s time for me to go home, too.”

44

RAFI

Maxine is standing exactly where Tayana said she’d be—beside the control tower, a hardcase bag at her feet. She’s a slight figure against the backdrop of the setting sun, the warm hues casting her in a silhouette. But she doesn’t look at us as we approach. Her head is tilted back, her eyes fixed on something far above, her expression unreadable.

I step out of the car first, my boots crunching against the gravel, the tension in my chest growing heavier with each step. “Maxine,” I call, my voice steady despite the tightness in my throat. “Are you okay?”

Her gaze drops slowly, recognition dawning like a shadow passing over her face. There’s a flicker of something—relief, maybe—but it’s fleeting. She nods once, but it feels hollow. Her eyes dart back up to the sky, her lips parting slightly as though she’s still watching something only she can see.

I follow her gaze, squinting against the sun’s glare. A plane slices through the sky, its tail disappearing into the thick clouds that have rolled in. My stomach twists.

“Maxine,” I say again, stepping closer. “Where’s Tayana?”

She doesn’t look at me. Instead, she lifts a hand, pointing toward the plane now swallowed by the horizon.

“She’s gone home,” Maxine says softly, her voice steady but eerily detached. “Home, handsome one.”

The words punch me in the chest, sharp and disorienting. For a moment, I can’t move. I stare at her, searching her face for some sign that she’s joking or mistaken, but there’s nothing there—only a calm acceptance that makes my pulse thunder in my ears.

“Home?” I echo, my voice rough. “What the hell does that mean? Where is she?”

Maxine doesn’t answer. She just drops her hand and looks back up at the sky, as if Tayana’s absence is a reality so obvious it doesn’t require explanation.

Sergio steps forward, his movements careful, almost reverent, as he places a hand on Maxine’s elbow. “Let’s get you in the car,” he murmurs, his tone soothing. He leads her toward his car, guiding her gently into the back seat. She doesn’t resist, doesn’t protest, just lets him buckle her in like a child being tucked into bed. The bag she’d been holding is placed beside her, a silent reminder of her ordeal. Mason slides in next to her, his hand covering hers in quiet reassurance.

I don’t follow. My feet feel rooted to the ground as my mind races. Tayana wouldn’t just leave. Not like this. She told me to come here, gave me a location—she wouldn’t vanish without a word.

I pull my phone from my pocket and dial her number, my jaw clenched so tight it hurts. The line rings once, then twice, before going straight to voicemail. I hang up and call again, my thumb trembling over the screen. Nothing. The same hollow beep, the same automated message.

Frustration claws at my chest as I turn to Kanyan, who’s leaning against the hood of the car, watching me with a careful, measured gaze. His calm only fuels my agitation.

“Call Leo,” I snap at Jayson, my voice sharper than intended. “I need him to track this number. Now.”

Kanyan doesn’t move immediately. He watches me for another moment, his mouth pressing into a thin line before he pushes off the car and walks toward Sergio’s vehicle. He leans into the window, exchanging quiet words with Maxine. I can’t hear them, but I see Mason’s brows furrow, his hand tightening over hers.

When Kanyan returns, there’s something in his expression that makes my chest tighten even further—a hesitation that I don’t want to acknowledge.

“Well?” I demand.

He exhales through his nose, dragging a hand over his face. “She was on that plane, Rafi. She went willingly.”

The words hit me like a slap, my mind rejecting them immediately. “No,” I say, shaking my head. “That doesn’t make sense. She wouldn’t just—she wouldn’t leave like that.”

“Maxine’s lucid,” he continues, his voice low but firm. “She said Tayana went voluntarily with Igor and her father.”

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