Chapter 2

The thumping of rotor blades announced the helicopter's arrival, a beacon of hope in the grey, storm-lashed afternoon. It landed in a small clearing the lodge staff maintained, kicking up mud and debris. My father's chief security consultant, a stoic man named Marcus, hopped out first, followed by the pilot.

"Ms. Ava," Marcus greeted me, his eyes scanning the surroundings. "Your father sends his regards. We have a slight issue. Unexpected turbulence reported en route, and with the extra weight of myself as per your father's insistence for security, plus the pre-arranged charter for your friends..." He gestured towards Sarah and a couple of others whose parents, I'd "casually" arranged, had co-chartered spots. "...there's only one seat left after you and your immediate party are accounted for."

One seat. For either Ethan or Brittany.

The implications hung heavy in the air. The other stranded students looked crestfallen but understanding; they knew my father's priority would be me and those directly associated with our pre-existing arrangement.

Brittany, however, saw her opening.

"Oh, thank God!" she exclaimed, pushing forward. "I absolutely have to take that seat. The SATs are my entire future! Ethan," she turned to him, her voice dripping with false sympathy, "you're smart, you can always retake them later. This is more important for me. You wouldn't do that well anyway, you were barely studying."

Ethan looked like he'd been slapped. His face went from hopeful to stunned, then to a dark, furious red. "What did you just say, Brittany?"

"It's true!" she insisted, her voice rising to a whine. "I need this. You always said you'd do anything for me!"

"Anything doesn't include you calling me a loser and trying to steal my chance after you made us miss the shuttle!" Ethan roared. The carefully constructed image of him as Brittany's noble protector shattered.

"I didn't make anyone miss anything!" Brittany shrieked back. "You all could have left!"

"We waited for YOU!" a chorus of angry students yelled.

Their argument escalated, vicious and public. Accusations flew. Brittany called Ethan weak and clingy. Ethan called Brittany selfish and manipulative. It was a spectacular implosion of their "special bond," and I watched, a silent observer to the carnage I had subtly orchestrated.

This was better than I could have hoped.

When they were both breathless and seething, I stepped forward. "Actually," I said, pulling out my satellite phone again, "I think we can make it work." I pretended to dial. "Dad? Yes, it's Ava... The pilot mentioned some hazard pay concerns for an extra passenger... Could you authorize it? Wonderful. Thank you."

I looked at the pilot. "My father has authorized whatever is necessary. You can take them both."

The pilot, who was in on the whole charade, nodded gravely. "If Mr. Thorne says so."

Ethan and Brittany, momentarily silenced by my intervention, looked at me with suspicion and a grudging sort of relief. I wanted Ethan to see Brittany for who she was, not just hear it, but experience it, again and again. This was just the beginning.