Lambert took a deep breath. "The recording shows… five minutes before takeoff, the captain had already received a warning!"
"Someone anonymously reported that the plane's landing gear had been tampered with, and the oxygen system had been cut off!"
"Because the caller's voice was mocking, the captain thought it was a prank, so he didn't report it to the control tower."
"And that tipster was you."
I wasn't surprised they'd figured it out.
"So what?"
"I called the cops and saved a bunch of people—and in the end, those idiots wouldn't listen. Insisted on boarding anyway and flying to their deaths."
"How is that my fault?"
Joel Lambert's jaw tightened. "Then why didn't you explain? Why didn't you tell us the truth?"
"Whether you believe me is your problem."
"All I know is that everyone who walked past me onto that plane is dead."
Early the next morning, Detective Harper brought me a boxed meal.
"Your family's here."
"Who?" I asked between bites.
"Your parents. And your fiancé."
She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, studying me.
"Savannah Pruitt, I really can't figure out what kind of person you are."
"Your fiancé's name is Sebastian Finch, right? Good-looking guy. Senior engineer at the airline."