Page 18 of Two Wrongs


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The security line for Terminal C is just ahead, and I force my feet to take the last steps in that direction, stepping in line behind two young guys with backpacks and the vague scent of weed swirling around them.

I slap down my passport for the TSA agent. A few more feet and I’m out of here. Out of his life. Out of—

“Excuse me, Miss. I need you to step out of the line please.”

“Sorry?” I blink at him through the plexiglass barrier.

The TSA agent frowns, and I notice that he’s not alone. There’s a woman standing behind him and a little to his left, looking me up and down. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist,” he says, and my heart starts to flap around in my chest.

“What’s this about?”

“Natalie Filmore?” The woman says, then shrugs when the man shoots her a dark look. “Matches the description. Passport confirms it. Ma’am, you should come with us. Try to stay calm.”

“What?” I ask incredulously. Stay calm?

Whenever anyone tells you to stay calm, that’s the last thing you should do.

The TSA lady in her ill-fitting blue uniform takes me by the bicep with a grip like an iron vice and half drags me round a corner into a private area.

“What the heck is—” Just beyond the fabric-covered cubicle wall is…

Tor.

What the toffee fudge is he doing here? And he’s grinning? Grinning?

I was right. He’s a serial killer or something. He’s called in an anonymous tip just to stop me boarding my flight.

I’m going to kill him.

“Excuse me.” Tor’s voice echoes against the cinder block wall behind him as he comes through the doorway. “I’m Mr. Saman.”

Both agents give him a knowing look, and I’m more confused than ever.

“I do hope she didn’t give you any trouble. Sometimes the ones that are non compos mentis can be a real handful.”

The male agent nods patiently. “We did wonder why she felt she needed a passport to fly to Massachusetts.”

“I lost my—” I start, trying to explain that it was my only form of ID, but nobody is looking at me. Or listening to me.

Tor nods patiently to the security personnel, and then lowers his voice. “There’s just no reasoning with her. Trust me.”

Wait just a stinking minute.

“Hey, everyone!” I snap my fingers, then double point at my face. “I’m right here, I can hear you, and I have no idea what’s going on. I have my ticket here on my phone, my passport…”

They all ignore me like I’m not even there.

Infuriating.

Tor pulls a folded stack of papers out from the inside pocket in his stupid sexy gray suit. “Here are the conservatorship papers.”

The what?

He hands the papers to the agents, who nod at each other, then look at the top sheet.

“Just glad we got to her before it was too late.”

“Too late? Am I expiring?” I throw up my hands. “This is crazy.”

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