The early dawn air clung to the outskirts of Utah as I arrived at the private hangar with Eli by my side. The quiet was perfect, a discreet way to slip out of the state and head to Comoros without drawing attention. Caleb had already made it there ahead of us, leaning against the jet in his usual laid-back manner. Without a word, we boarded the plane and left Utah behind.
The flight was long—a day—but Eli's constant complaints about the endless hours made me laugh, his grumbling a welcome distraction from the period. I could see the weariness in him, but he kept it light, as always. The journey dragged, yet it gave me the space to think, to prepare for whatever lay ahead once we touched down in Comoros.