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.504Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFDn2xs6Rlh
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.504Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpdiyMN92VN
She might be right. She didn't know for sure. But if she was taken back into custody, she'd never know for sure.504Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNYZ06kWWeL
Get away, she told herself. Escape.504Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnEq4AnEqsv
Then maybe you can come up with the answer. Surely you'll think of something, Mischa. But get away first.504Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNb51XZy8Vt
The overhead loudspeaker called for the back rows of coach class, including the row she was in, to board.504Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCQZl7EyWxC
She took a breath, got up, and got in line.504Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡb1mAyS9Ve6
