Chapter 32

Alex stowed her bag and sat down in first, fucking class. This was amazing and how had they been able to afford this?

The first two flights had been fine, long, but fine. The first class stewardesses had been nice and the food had been wonderful. But this was completely different. The center aisle wasn't seats. It was a BAR. Holy shit. 

She leant over the back of her seat to Ray, trying to mouth her excitement at him. He gave her a puzzled look and pulled out a magazine, already settling in to the auxiliary reading material he'd been forced to pick up in O’hare. 

She sat back down and looked out at Chicago. She'd spent almost her whole life, other than the chunk she couldn't remember, in Alaska. In America. Now she had to leave the country for her own safety. So that she and her brother wouldn't be killed by the very government sworn to protect them. Because someone said she'd killed a Governor.  At some point she would have to wake up, right? At some point the post operation drugs would wear off and she would have been in a horrible acci…

“Warm towel?” She stopped her internal freak out and looked up at the hostess, who's face melted when she saw hers. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” The older woman knelt down and placed a caring hand on her shoulder. Alex melted into tears. “You need more than a warm towel.”

“Oh.” Alex sobbed. “The towel would be lovely. And some water. That's all.” She was sniffing. The stewardess waved a colleague over who brought a tissue box and a bottle of water. 

“Wanna talk about it?” The lady asked while opening the water for Alex. 

“I can't really.” Alex shook her head and blew her nose. “It's super duper personal.” Damn it. Now she had to lie to a kindly stranger who just wanted to help her. 

“That is completely fine.” The lady handed the bottle over. “But, whatever it is, you can't run from it forever. Frankfurt is going to be cool. But it's not forever.”

“I've got one more flight after this,” Alex said after gulping some water. “I'm off to Russia.”

“Oh.” The stewardess gave her a quick hug. “That's a long couple days. Well, try not to burst into tears on that flight. It'll be all okay. Cry all you need. I'll keep bringing water and tissues.”

“And tequila?” Alex laughed. 

“Agree if I see ID.” The older woman held out her hand. Alex giggled through her tears and handed over her fake passport.

Zoe FleischerComment