The crack—the one Del had seen, the one Maya had touched—was now a twelve-inch fissure. At 30,000 feet, with 5.5 PSI pushing from inside, the fuselage was trying to unzip itself like an overstuffed suitcase.

Maya unbuckled. “I’m checking the aft section.”

Later, in the NTSB report, investigators would write: The crack originated at a manufacturing defect in frame station 780, exacerbated by IFLY’s accelerated induction schedule and maintenance pressure to disregard early indicators. They would recommend fleet-wide inspections.

She screamed into her headset: “Captain, it’s structural. Get us down. Now.”

“Carl, did you log this?” she asked the first officer, nodding at the crack.

Carl’s voice came back tight. “It’s… bouncing. Point one PSI swings. That shouldn’t happen.”

Carl didn’t look up from his tablet. “Cosmetic. Logged it as ‘interior trim, non-structural.’ Plane’s been on the IFLY fleet for six weeks. They all have little quirks.”

Captain Ron, a thirty-year veteran, frowned. “Nothing good.” He toggled the intercom. “Carl, check the aft cabin pressure differential.”