Malia POV:

The Aeonian airport’s landing strip jutted out from the island’s bustling harbor like a strand of hair straying from its head. A strip of road surrounded by the sea and an aviation tower handled all traffic. As the plane’s exit door whooshed open, Grace gave Malia a meaningful nod that conveyed trust and deference. Charles lightly squeezed her neck, saying the same.

“Your lead,” Charles said.

Malia led the foursome as they exited ...