If you're reading this, I probably didn't make my flight.

The probability is 6.9% as of Friday night. That means 93.1% chance everything is fine. I keep telling myself that. Ninety-three point one. Ninety-three point one.

Sunil is in LA. I need to be in LA.

Mateo gave me $800 and drove me to the airport. I didn't deserve that. He barely knows me. He said Jonah would understand.

Avery still doesn't know about any of this. She's packing boxes for Portland and doesn't know there's a reason to stay.

I am probably overreacting. Lucas says I am. Ninety-three point one percent says I am.

But if I'm not —