MISCHA MADE IT THROUGH security at Bordeaux-Merignac and sat at the gate for her departing flight, which was scheduled to take off at 1:50 p.m. Around her, a few female American students were talking about a boy one of them had met here in Bordeaux. She enjoyed a brief moment of peace and hope, as she pondered something that once seemed impossible: a new life.411Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuFVCQjwT2i
All told, her journey would take her more than twenty-four hours. One day. And then she would be Audrey Becker, American expatriate, or someone else Drake invented for her. If, that is, she could trust him.
She closed her eyes as the flight attendant's voice came over the loudspeaker, first in French, then English. All passengers were still boarding. Starting with first-class passengers and elite members of the airline's loyalty program.
Now boarding for a new life. A life with fresh air and blue skies and the sweet taste of freedom.
She hadn't won, exactly. She hadn't solved the problem or corrected the injustice. She was close, she thought, but she remembered what Drake had said to her in Belroux: even if she were right, she couldn't prove anything.411Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkp1aFK4ihp
She might be right. She didn't know for sure. But if she was taken back into custody, she'd never know for sure.411Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡISqaoEzUFG
Get away, she told herself. Escape.411Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡruicrH9aKG
Then maybe you can come up with the answer. Surely you'll think of something, Mischa. But get away first.411Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡELoyYPh0B0
The overhead loudspeaker called for the back rows of coach class, including the row she was in, to board.411Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0RvSfKEMOW
She took a breath, got up, and got in line.411Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9OUOycNB6L
