Page 58 of Broken Princess
The spacious room was laid out like an old-fashioned university library with high ceilings, dark hardwood shelves, black and gold reading lamps on tables, and leaded glass windows. Just as I predicted, it was empty.
I slumped into a chair by one of the tables and put my head in my hands.
“How are you feeling?” Rowan asked softly, reaching one hand out to awkwardly pat my back.
I glanced up at him. “How the hell do you think I’m feeling?”
He quickly drew his hand back. “S-sorry. I never know the right thing to say. I just—”
“No, I’m sorry,” I muttered, cutting him off. “It’s not your fault. I know you’re just trying to help.”
He nodded and sank into a chair opposite me. “That’s why I came. I want to help. Can I show you something?”
I shrugged. “Sure.”
He pulled out a laptop and opened the lid. “Have you been watching the news or reading any of the details of the plane explosion?” he asked, eyeing me over the top of the computer.
I closed my eyes, picturing last night’s horrifying video, and a chill instantly shot through me. “No,” I finally said. “I already know what happened.”
“So you haven’t heard the tape that got released, then?”
“What tape?”
“It was leaked online this morning. Black box recording.”
I raised a brow. “They already found the black box?”
“Yup. They’ve had boats and divers out there all day,” Rowan said with an emphatic nod. “Anyway, you know how everyone was speculating that there was a bomb on board?”
“Yeah.”
“They’ve all changed their minds now. Listen to this.” He brought something up on the laptop and pressed enter, and an audio file began to play.
‘…. wrong fucking one! I’m going to set that fucking bastard on fire!’ a faint masculine voice was saying.
My forehead creased. “What is that?”
“It’s the Crown Prince raging on the plane about fifteen minutes before the incident,” Rowan replied. “The first half was cut off because he wasn’t close enough to the cockpit for the box to record him, but it’s pretty clear he was furious about something, and he wanted to set someone on fire as revenge.”
“Okay. So?”
“So everyone is speculating that it was an accident. They think he got mad, lit something up during his tantrum, and accidentally started a massive fire onboard.”
I sighed and put my head in my hands again. “Why does it matter? The plane fucking exploded. That’s all we need to know.”
Rowan lifted one palm. “Just hear me out. Please. I promise I’m going somewhere with this.”
“Fine.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned forward slightly. “Okay, so, despite the fire theory, I’m seeing a lot of online chatter about a possible shootdown.”
“What?”
“There’s evidence on the videos taken from the boats that the plane may have been taken down by a missile. An MBS2 surface-to-air missile, to be specific,” Rowan said, typing rapidly. An image of a weapon appeared on the screen. “Those missiles are bought by terrorist cells quite frequently, so everyone on the forums is speculating that one of them shot the plane down to kill Prince Darius. It’s not that surprising. A lot of people hate the Keshari royals.”
I scrubbed a hand over my face and rose to my feet. “Look, I’m sorry, but I can’t do this,” I said. “I don’t give a fuck how or why the plane went down. It doesn’t change the fact that Willow is dead. It won’t bring her back.”
“That’s the thing,” Rowan said, holding a palm up again. “This missile stuff… it all ties into my theory.”
“What theory?”
A gleam appeared in his eyes, and his lips curled up in a faint smile. “Logan, I think Willow is still alive.”
