Chapter 4 - The Pilot Who Refused to Lie
Andre Wilkes met with investigators before he spoke to me. He was willing to give an additional statement, but he would not discuss evidence the detectives had asked him to keep confidential.
When we finally met in a conference room with counsel present, he looked older than he had on the flight.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"You threw the flotation pack."
"I should've stopped him before he opened the door."
"You told him to sit down."
"I should've done more."
I knew the feeling. I had spent days asking why I hadn't screamed sooner, fought harder, canceled the trip. My therapist had told me those questions were common after trauma. Knowing that didn't silence them.
Andre slid a photograph across the table.
It showed Tasha beside the hangar.
"She came to the operator's office two days before the flight," he said. "She said she was confirming the anniversary surprise. I thought she worked for your husband."
"Did she ask about the door?"
Andre nodded.
"She asked whether passengers could get photographs with it open. I told her no. Then she asked what would happen if someone fell."
My skin went cold.
"Did you report that?"
"Yes. I told my supervisor. He said rich clients ask foolish questions."
Andre looked at my belly.
"I should've refused the booking."
Patrice asked whether anyone had tried to influence his statement.
Andre hesitated.
"My sister got a call. A man offered to pay off her mortgage if I remembered the flight differently."
"Did she record it?"
"She saved the voicemail."
The detective took the information.
I wanted to thank Andre without turning him into a hero in a story he had never asked to enter.
"You helped save us," I said.
He lowered his head.
"I hope your daughter grows up knowing how hard her mama fought."
For the first time, I believed she might.
That afternoon, my obstetrician checked the baby. The heartbeat was reassuring, though I still needed close follow-up. Lorraine held my hand during the examination. I watched the screen and tried to memorize every movement.
"I want to name her Joy," I said afterward.
My mother smiled.
"Your daddy would've loved that."
He had always said joy wasn't the absence of trouble. It was the stubborn refusal to let trouble own the whole house.
Patrice called with another development. A forensic review found that the death certificate had been submitted using credentials linked to a private document service. The service's owner was Calvin Price's nephew.
Calvin denied knowledge.
Beverly said the company should focus on stability instead of scandal.
Darius issued another statement. He described me as emotionally unstable and claimed I had been under tremendous pressure.
I read it once.
"He's trying to make my fear sound like a confession."
Patrice nodded. "The evidence and witness accounts matter. We won't litigate this in his comment section."
We prepared for a lawful return to the company. My board secretary verified my identity through independent channels and notified directors that reports of my death were false. Patrice sought emergency relief against unauthorized property filings.
I wanted to walk into the memorial and watch Darius's face collapse. Lorraine wanted the same thing, though she admitted it less readily.
Detective Reed cautioned us not to interfere with the investigation. Patrice worked with him to ensure any public appearance would not compromise safety or evidence.
We settled on one thing: I would attend a scheduled board meeting on Christmas Eve morning, with counsel and security. The memorial was that evening. Darius would learn I was alive before he could perform his grief for the cameras.
Then Elijah called.
"I've found something in Monarch's records," he said.
"What?"
"Your signature is on a transfer authorization."
"I never signed one."
"I know. The approval was entered while you were in the ocean."
He paused.
"And Simone? The account that received the money is registered to a trust for a child."
"What child?"
Elijah swallowed.
"Tasha's son."
May you like
I stared at Patrice.
Tasha had always told me she didn't have children.
