The plane is boarding in twenty minutes. I clutch the urn containing my parents’ ashes, its weight familiar now—like the Kevlar vest I used to wear before I traded it for aprons and silence.\n\nAt home, Damian called me ‘sweet, but useless’ over burnt toast. His friends laughed. They didn’t know I’d once decrypted a nuclear launch protocol in Mandarin while evading drone strikes. They don’t know I built the firewall protecting his company’s servers last week—the one he bragged about at dinner.\n\nMy phone buzzes. A message from an unknown number: ‘They’re tracking your passport. Run.’\n\nI look at the gate. Then at the taxi stand outside arrivals. A third option flashes—a private hangar listed in my old emergency protocol.\n\nThe clock ticks. My parents deserved peace. But maybe… I deserve war.