A long silence. Then a rustle behind the door. A voice like cracked parchment: “Go away. I’m not leaving.”
“We’ve tried drones,” the mayor said. “They crash in the wind. We tried the young rangers—she won’t open the door. But you, Eli… she used to watch you fly. Back when you were the Sky Angel.” sky angel 80
“You’re the flying boy,” she whispered. A long silence