Chapter 2: The Record They Tried to Erase

The next day at noon, the ranger drove me back to the mountain lodge that served as the company’s base.

When I pushed open the door, the smell of beef soup filled the kitchen.

A loaf of freshly baked bread sat in the middle of the long table, and my mother was setting a thermos bowl in front of Lily.

"Still dizzy? The doctor said even mild altitude sickness isn’t something to brush off. Drink your soup."

Lily was wearing a clean wool sweater, her cheeks rosy.

After getting back to base yesterday, she’d spent all of ten minutes on oxygen before finishing the sponsored video shoot.

I braced a hand against the wall and walked in.

My mother saw me and frowned.

"You’re tracking mud everywhere."

I set my discharge papers on the table.

"I was in the hospital."

"Nolan already told us," my father said without looking up from the comments under Lily’s latest video. "It was just a few stitches, right? Did you have to go over our heads and call the park rangers? Now they’re demanding our full dispatch records."

I hadn’t eaten since the day before.

I reached for the bread.

My mother moved the basket away before my fingers could graze it.

"That’s for Lily. It’s part of her recovery meal plan from the nutritionist. There are oat bars in the cabinet if you’re hungry."

Lily took a bite of bread and said softly, "If my sister wants some, she can have it."

My mother immediately patted her hand.

"You’re too kind. If she’d listened to dispatch and stayed put yesterday instead of moving around, she wouldn’t have turned a minor cut into such a drama."

I stared at my father’s laptop.

The accident report was open on the screen.

My distress level had been changed from red—Personnel Unable to Move—to gray—Equipment Malfunction.

The reporting staff member was listed as me.

"Who changed the record?" I asked.

My father shut the laptop.

"That’s an internal company matter."

"It says I accidentally triggered the locator. When the ranger found me, my core temperature was ninety-three degrees."

"But you came back alive, didn’t you?" my mother said impatiently. "Should the company lose its operating permit over this?"

"So you’re making me take the fall for a false alarm?"

Lily set down her spoon, avoiding my eyes.

"Dad just wanted to keep things simple. Besides, the livestream vehicle was already assigned to me."

"Who assigned it?"

She hesitated.

"It was on the sponsor’s itinerary."

"I signed out route verification and the support vehicle on the whiteboard at six o’clock yesterday morning."

My father slammed his hand on the table.

"Mara, Lily’s work brings in exposure for this company. What you do is support work. Stop acting like everyone owes you something."

Support work.

For the last four years, I had personally vetted all fifty-seven of the company’s routes.

Which bridge iced over after a blizzard, which ravine flooded in the rainy season, which client had a bee sting allergy—it was all in the database I maintained.

All Lily had to do was stand at the scenic points I’d marked and tell her camera she had discovered some hidden wonder.

"Change the accident report back," I said.

"No," my father replied. "You’re part of this family. You should know when to protect the family business."

The irony was almost funny.

When they needed my labor, I was family.

When someone needed to take the blame, I was just a name they could edit.

I didn’t touch the food on the table again.

I turned and went back to my room.

After locking the door, I pulled the automatic backup from my old laptop.

The company server kept the original logs from before any edits, including the full radio recordings.

I copied the files to the cloud, then opened the Edinburgh confirmation email.

The program coordinator said I could move into student housing early, and my flight reimbursement would be processed upon arrival.

I booked a flight for three days from now.

This time, I didn’t write my plans on the family whiteboard.