Late twenties. Jeans. A gray sweater. Hair tied back. No makeup. No jewelry. She looked like a graduate student or a young professional returning from a short trip.
Claire had spent the last week hiking in Washington—her first real vacation in years. She was tired, sore, and looking forward to nothing more than her own bed and a quiet night.
She had deliberately booked a window seat. She liked watching clouds slide past, liked pretending the world below didn’t exist for a few hours.
She especially liked anonymity.
What no one onboard knew—what no one could have guessed—was that Claire Morgan was not just a passenger.
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