Heads turned in unison. A young woman stood in the doorway, wearing a worn grey dress. Her hair was tangled and wild, as if the wind had chased her to the hangar. Oil and grease marked her thin fingers. Despite her fragile appearance, her eyes were steady and unwavering, focused solely on the engine. A few of the mechanics exchanged incredulous glances.
Trevor Lane, the chief maintenance engineer, stepped forward cautiously. “Miss, you shouldn’t be here. We’ve been working on this engine for hours,” he said. His voice carried a mixture of skepticism and curiosity.
Two guards moved toward her, intending to escort her out. Before they reached her, Evan lifted his hand. “Stop. Let her speak,” he commanded. The room fell silent. The woman stepped closer, keeping her eyes fixed on the engine rather than the people around her.
“I heard your team mention a whistle during descent,” she said. “And inconsistent spool readings after shutdown. Both problems suggest overlapping faults. May I inspect the intake?”
Trevor froze. “Who told you that?”
“No one,” she replied softly.