He said carefully, “No obligation. Just a seat.”
Amara studied him.
Then nodded.
“Only until she sleeps deeper.”
Andrew moved aside as the flight attendant arranged the empty seat beside him.
Amara sat carefully, still holding Lily.
She looked completely out of place among leather seats, crystal glasses, and passengers pretending not to stare.
Yet somehow, the first-class cabin seemed less ridiculous with her in it.
Andrew noticed her backpack again.
One zipper was broken.
A calculus textbook stuck out beside a folder labeled:
Aerospace Research Fellowship — Paris Final Round
His eyes sharpened.
“You’re going to Paris for a fellowship?”
Amara glanced down as if she had forgotten the folder was visible.
“Yes.”
“At sixteen?”
She nodded.
“Final interview.”
“What field?”
“Aerospace materials.”
Andrew leaned back.
That answer would have surprised most people.
It did not surprise him as much as it should have.
There was something about her focus.
