The Legacy (Off-Campus #5) by Elle Kennedy

The Legacy (Off-Campus #5) by Elle Kennedy

Author:Elle Kennedy [Kennedy, Elle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781990101069
Google: DSCazgEACAAJ
Publisher: ​EKI
Published: 2021-09-20T23:00:00+00:00


24

Tucker

Night 1

We don’t die.

The airplane touches down safely in Jacksonville to relieved sighs and a few awkward claps and whistles. The crew apologize profusely at the door as we are deplaned and escorted by gate staff to a holding area where we’re corralled and bribed with free snacks and coffee. A lady in a blazer doesn’t laugh when I ask for a beer instead.

“Who do we want for Jamie?” Sabrina says, after texting my mom to check in. Both Grandma and the kid are fine.

The wife, on the other hand…

“Huh?” I eye her in confusion.

“For our will. We need a custody plan for Jamie.” She starts rummaging around in her purse. “I think your mom would be the best guardian, yeah?”

“Here, darlin’. Have some cookies.” I grab three bags of mini Oreos from the basket on the chair across from us and toss them in her lap. “You’re still feeling the adrenaline. It’ll pass.”

Sabrina looks up from her bag and fixes me with a death stare. “You’re trying to shut me up with cookies? We almost died in a fiery plane crash, and we don’t have anything that lays out what happens to our daughter if we both die.”

“I assumed she’d become a circus nomad until she finds herself making turquoise jewelry in the desert.”

“Gee, John, I’m glad you think this is funny.”

Shit. She called me John. Now I know it’s serious.

“It’s not funny,” I assure her. “But this conversation is maybe a little morbid, don’t you think?”

“If I can please have everyone’s attention.” A tall, authoritative-looking representative from the airline in a pantsuit stands in the middle of our holding area. “The maintenance crew has determined there was a minor electrical failure on the aircraft which necessitated the early landing.”

“Early.” Sabrina scoffs at the euphemism.

“It appears the in-flight entertainment system shorted out.”

A loud gasp sounds from the end of our row, courtesy of Marcia. “You did this to us by pressing all those buttons! You froze the screen,” she accuses her husband, pointing one red-painted talon at him.

The rotund man glares at her.

“I can assure you,” the airline rep says smoothly, “that the failure occurred in the wiring itself and not as a result of any passenger touching the screen.”

She then proceeds to tell us our plane is grounded and they’re flying in a new one to get us to St. Maarten, where Sabrina and I are hopping a ferry to St. Barth’s.

“How long will that take?” someone asks.

The rep is noncommittal about a timeframe, which gets groans and arguments from the cranky passengers. Sighing, I start texting to give notice we’re not making our scheduled departure. First my mom, then Dean, whose house we’re staying at.

“Give me a pen,” Sabrina says, nudging me.

“Huh?”

“A pen. I need a pen.”

I fish one out of my carry-on, and she snatches it out of my hand. Sabrina, now obsessed with the idea of our untimely deaths, uses the delay to furiously scribble down a will on the back of the flight confirmation we printed off before leaving the house.



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