The novel shifts to Earhart’s final journey and its aftermath. In 1937, 15-year-old Betty Klenck sat at her family’s advanced radio set in St. Petersburg, Florida, tuning the shortwave dial in search of distant broadcasts. Her father had installed a special antenna that allowed them to pick up signals from places as far away as Europe and Mexico. On this particular afternoon, Klenck heard a woman’s voice repeatedly identifying herself as Amelia Earhart and calling for help. Klenck grabbed her notebook, struggling to write down what she heard through static and fading signals. The fragments that she managed to capture described rising water, cries for air, and what sounded like a man and woman trapped together in a confined space. Klenck became convinced the plane had crashed on land and was slowly flooding. She recorded increasingly frantic messages over nearly two hours, including pleas for help and moments of confusion or fear between the two voices.

When Klenck’s father came home and heard the distress calls, he rushed to the local Coast Guard station to report what they had heard. Officials dismissed the story, unwilling to believe that a Florida radio could receive transmissions from Earhart’s plane. Klenck kept her notebook, though, and years later, aviation researchers from the International Group for Historic Aircraft Recovery examined it. Although the notebook’s authenticity has not been fully verified, it appears to be a real-time transcription of the radio messages Klenck heard.

The novel reverts back to Earhart’s life and history. In 1935, Earhart accepted an invitation to spend part of the school year at Purdue University, where the president hoped that her presence would inspire female students to pursue careers in male-dominated fields like engineering and agriculture. Earhart embraced the opportunity, encouraging young women to take risks and reject societal limits. During her time at Purdue, Earhart mentioned that her aging Vega could no longer meet her ambitions, sparking the idea of acquiring a modern aircraft for new long-distance flights. George Putnam proposed a “Flying Laboratory” to study the effects of air travel. Wealthy donors and corporate sponsors soon raised $80,000 to purchase a state-of-the-art Lockheed Electra, with Earhart controlling its use and ownership.

Preparations for the world flight began immediately, with Putnam handling complex logistics, including permissions, fuel supply arrangements, and maintenance planning across more than 30 stops. Earhart practiced flying the Electra but gave little attention to mastering its advanced radio equipment, brushing off opportunities for thorough training.

The flight’s most difficult leg would be over the Pacific, requiring a refueling stop at Howland Island. Earhart persuaded President Roosevelt to authorize the construction of a secret airstrip there, funded quietly to avoid public backlash during the Great Depression. Her first attempt at the world flight began in March 1937, heading west from California. After reaching Hawaii, a botched takeoff wrecked the Electra, forcing repairs and a change of plans. The revised route was slated to go east instead, starting in Miami, Florida. Harry Manning, originally part of the crew, withdrew from the flight, leaving only Earhart and navigator Fred Noonan. On June 1, 1937, Earhart and Noonan set off from Miami.

The narrative shifts back to Earhart’s final voyage and its aftermath. On July 5, Commander Warner Thompson of the Itasca reviewed scattered reports of possible signals from Earhart. He ordered the ship to search a new area 281 miles north of Howland Island, based on a message that the Navy radio station in Wailupe claimed to have received. Unaware that Earhart’s Morse code sending key had been removed from the Electra, Thompson believed that the signal was authentic. 

That evening, two Itasca lookouts spotted what appeared to be a flare arcing into the sky, followed shortly by a second green light seen by multiple witnesses. Radio operator Leo Bellarts sent messages asking if Earhart had launched the flares, stating that the cutter was moving toward her location.

The sighting triggered a wave of communication across the Pacific, with news quickly reaching the Hawaiian and San Francisco Coast Guard stations. Headlines the next morning in the New York Herald-Tribune declared that the Itasca had spotted Earhart’s flares, fueling widespread hope that a rescue was imminent. However, the Itasca found no trace of the missing plane or any sign of a life raft, and by 10 o’clock that night, Thompson began to doubt what they had seen. He concluded that the lights had likely been heat lightning, not distress signals. That night, responsibility for the search passed from the Coast Guard to the US Navy.

The novel shifts back to Earhart’s life and history. Earhart and Fred Noonan began their around-the-world flight with a series of relatively easy legs, flying from Miami to San Juan, Puerto Rico, and then on to Venezuela and Dutch Guiana. During these early flights, Earhart took notes for her newspaper articles and kept a detailed logbook for the book she planned to write for Purdue. 

As they traveled, Earhart and Noonan got to know each other. Noonan was a highly respected navigator who mapped key air routes across the Pacific for Pan American Airways. Though his professional skills were renowned, Noonan struggled with alcohol use, a problem that contributed to the loss of his career and the collapse of his marriage shortly before Earhart hired him.

After a brief stop in Brazil, they crossed the Atlantic to Dakar in West Africa, battling a haze that briefly threatened their approach. From there, they flew across Africa, landing in Sudan. They crossed to Karachi and ran into fierce monsoon storms en route to Burma, forcing them to turn back. Noonan’s navigation skills helped them return safely to the airport, and they waited for clearer weather before continuing to Rangoon, Singapore, and Java. Mechanical repairs and monsoon delays held them up briefly in Java before they crossed to Darwin, Australia.

After a careful inspection of the Electra in Australia, Earhart and Noonan made their way to Lae, New Guinea, arriving on June 29, 1937. From Lae, they would face their most challenging leg—finding tiny Howland Island in the vast Pacific. Both Earhart and Noonan knew that this was the most dangerous part of the journey.

The novel shifts back to the aftermath of Earhart’s final journey. The Itasca continued scouring the waters near Howland Island, joined by other US Navy ships. The USS Colorado was the first to arrive and was tasked with searching the Phoenix Islands, a group located 350 miles south of Howland. On July 9, the battleship’s spotter planes began inspecting the islands, starting with McKean Island, where they found only birds. At Gardner Island, the pilots saw signs of possible habitation, though they failed to record exactly what they saw. After circling without spotting anyone signaling from the ground, they assumed that the island was empty and moved on.

The planes searched several other islands but found no trace of Earhart or Noonan. After covering 250,000 square miles and spending nearly $5 million, the search was officially called off on July 18, 1937. It was the most extensive search that the United States had ever conducted, but in the end, no trace of the Electra was found.

For the next 10 days after July 3, Earhart dominated front pages as the public anxiously followed every update, gathering around radios and filling movie theaters to watch newsreels of the search. Letters of sympathy poured into her family, expressing grief as though she were a personal friend or family member.

George Putnam was consumed by the search. He contacted every official he could, proposing alternate search areas and even offering to cover the costs himself. When the official search ended, Putnam kept pushing for answers and traveled to Washington, DC, to plead for further efforts. Eventually, he admitted to Earhart’s mother that the emptiness left by her loss was overwhelming. In the months that followed, Putnam poured his energy into preserving Earhart’s legacy, compiling her notes into Last Flight, published in late 1937, followed by a biography, Soaring Wings. Though some accused him of exploiting her death for profit, Putnam was left in debt from financing Earhart’s flight and the private search efforts.

Even after her disappearance, Earhart’s legend only grew. Rumors swirled that she had been on a secret government spy mission, had been captured by Japanese soldiers, or had faked her death to escape the spotlight. None of these were ever proven. Instead, she has endured as a symbol of bravery and independence. She was a woman who challenged conventions, chased her ambitions, and encouraged others to do the same. In a letter left behind in case she did not survive her flight, Earhart wrote that women must attempt the same challenges that men pursue—any failure should inspire others to keep trying.