Chapter 90
The Signature No One Could Own
The release form rejected Claire's signature.
The woman at the desk frowned. “You must name a witness.”
“The passengers can witness themselves.”
“The system requires an owner.”
“Then the system is the problem.”
The Mercy rose through the water. Windows flashed past: Cabin 12, the old church, the courthouse, Claire's bedroom. The ship was not traveling upward. It was crossing through every place the records had occupied.
Ada placed her hand over Claire's on the form.
“Write all of us.”
Claire wrote the names of the passengers in the margin. No single signature, only a list.
The form accepted it.
The woman at the desk disappeared.
The passengers stepped through the glass walls and onto the deck. Some were children. Some were old. Some had only voices.
Lena did not appear.
Claire looked for her until Mara touched her shoulder.
“You released her.”
“I do not know what that means.”
“It means she cannot come back in the shape you want.”
The captain's face flickered between Everett, Owen, and a stranger.
“The vessel is without an owner,” he said.
“Good,” Claire answered.
The Mercy's deck split open.
Beyond it was the Bellwether harbor.
The ship landed on the water without a splash.
Every passenger stepped onto shore.
On the dock, a county warrant waited for Claire's arrest.