DRAKE WALKED ALONG the Left Bank of the Seine, squinting into the sun and feeling the light wind through the open collar of his shirt. He passed a small playground, where a woman was helping her toddler down the slide with some effort. He thought of his girlfriend, and what she went through.497Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡp0dhJ9LjDD
He checked his watch. It was twenty passed one. Mischa's flight would be boarding now. "Off you go, girl," he said.
He felt the vibration of his phone in his pants pocket.
He fished out the phone. The number was blocked, which meant it was his contact at Bordeaux-Merignac. Drake had asked him to call when Mischa got on board.
He took a look around him and then answered his cell.
"She left," said his contact over the phone.
Drake sighed. "Right."
"No, buddy, I mean---she left. She was at the gate as they were boarding and she just turned around and hightailed it out of the airport."497Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVOfYMJAuNj
Drake took a second to contain his reaction. He rolled his neck and clenched and unclenched his jaw.497Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡA5wzlJvBWf
He'd given her a chance. And he'd given her a warning. She'd made her decision understanding the consequences.497Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq7KxhMI0H7
"Well, you dug your grave, Mischa," he mumbled to himself. He watched the children on the playground for another movement before he moved on.497Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoiYrALmqrt
