Chapter 3

Once we boarded, Kayla became restless again.

A middle-aged woman in professional clothes sat directly in front of us. I caught a glimpse of the documents on her tray table.

I had a fair guess about what she did for a living.

Kayla began kicking the back of the woman's seat. The repeated thuds sounded painfully loud inside the quiet cabin.

The woman endured it without turning around.

When Kayla received no reaction, she grew bored. She stood, leaned over the seat, and poured half a cup of juice down the woman's collar.

"Ah!"

The woman cried out and jumped up.

Sticky liquid ran down her blouse and soaked several documents on the tray.

A flight attendant hurried over with towels. "Ms. Whitlock, I'm so sorry—"

Ms. Whitlock's face was dark with fury. "Whose child is this? Who is responsible for her?"

Instead of feeling afraid, Kayla stood on the seat with both hands on her hips. "You look like a drowned rat. Serves you right."

I pulled off my headphones and put on my most helpless expression.

"Ma'am, I'm so sorry."

My eyes reddened instantly, and my voice began to shake.

"I can't control her. At home, she even hits the housekeeper.

"Her mother told me that if Kayla suffered any inconvenience outside, she would beat me with a clothes hanger when we returned."

Ms. Whitlock wiped juice from her blouse and stared at me coldly. "Who is her mother to make threats like that?"

That was the question I had been waiting for.

I glanced at the passengers listening around us and announced the name clearly.

"Her mother is Brenda Sawyer, the owner of Sawyer Building Supply.

"She often says that money can solve any problem in Ashford. She says she's got friends inside the revenue department and business-licensing office, and that anyone who touches her daughter will be driven out of the city."

Then I turned to Kayla and encouraged her warmly. "Kayla, didn't your mother say your family has enough money to fear nobody?"

Kayla immediately lifted her chin when she heard someone questioning her mother's influence.

"Yes. My mom is richer than everyone. She says those government people are beggars next to us. Give them money and they'll do anything.

"Your ugly shirt costs nothing. My mom can buy you ten."

The cabin became completely silent.

Ms. Whitlock stopped wiping her blouse.

She narrowed her eyes and studied Kayla, then me.

She photographed Kayla and the juice-soaked documents with her phone.

A few words in red were just visible across the top of the page.

Ms. Whitlock sat back down, her voice unnaturally calm and edged with cold amusement.

"Brenda Sawyer of Sawyer Building Supply in Ashford. Understood. I'll remember that.

"Young lady, your mother sounds extremely capable. I hope she can solve what comes next."