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I was about to put my phone away when a text came in from Tomas.
Tomas: Tell me you’re flying now.
Nadia: Tomorrow morning. Can’t wait to start. But I’m nervous. What about my French?
Tomas: You’re beautiful. People will forgive you of most things. Use it. Just get here.
I laughed and my mom scoffed when I showed her Tomas’s message. “Keep practicing your French.”
“I will every day.”
Mom and I reopened the suitcase and my carry-on. I had stacks of clothes, my passport, and exchanged money, all organized into separate bags. And it all hit me again. I’m going to Paris.
A timer went off on Mom’s watch on her wrist. She had set up her own scheduled checks for Dad. “Do you want me to come back?”
I zipped my toiletry bag and put it back inside the suitcase. “No, Mom, I’m fine. I’ll finish up.”
“Okay. Come have dinner later.” She closed the door.
A sliver of sunlight peeked through the heavy curtains on the three large windows across from the bed. I took a deep breath, went over, and eased them back. My focus was pulled toward the front gates, where paparazzi and news vans were lined up along the sidewalk. My breathing sped, and I gulped air to calm myself. I’m safe. I’m strong. Nothing can harm me now. I repeated the words Doctor Casey had taught me in one of our sessions until Isteadied my breath and mind.My internship had finally arrived. And I had a chance at a fresh start, even if the world wasn’t ready for me to do so.
Mom hugged me tight early the next morning. “Call me when you land.”
“Thanks, Mom, I will.” She fanned her eyes to stop her tears when we parted. I gave her waist another squeeze. “I love you.”
I kissed Dad’s cheeks, and I noticed his hand trembling as he clasped mine. “Please be careful.”
“I’ll be fine. I promise.”
I gave them one last wave before walking through the back of the property to a private road. One of the security guards closed the trunk with my bag, and we headed for the airport.
My mind went over the last-minute checks. Dictionary, check. Map, check. When I finished my list, I moved on to common French phrases and practiced during the ride there. “Merci, bonjour, excusez-moi, c’est combien.” Yep. Totally ready.
I left the driver after checking in and headed towards security. The wall clock above displayed ten in the morning. Two hours to wait. Sighing, I stopped outside of an airport convenience shop. Do I have enough books to read if I can’t fall asleep? I scanned the selections and settled on a romance comedy book and a couple of fashion mags.
“O.m.g., I got the same things.” A woman stepped next to me, holding up her items to show me.
I politely smiled and nodded. “Oh, I see. Have a great day.”
“Wait. Aren’t you Nadia Sokol?” Her voice rose like she asked a question, but it was clear from her expression she recognized me.
My smile tightened. “Yes. I have a flight if you’ll excuse me.”
“I’m Emily with New Style News. First, let me express my condolences for your loss.” She spoke rapidly as she followed me outside the store. “Can I please ask you a couple of questions?”
“No comment,” I mumbled and walked faster.
“But I haven’t even asked the question yet,” she quipped, her voice elevated.
My skin warmed as my eyes darted ahead. The security checkpoint had a long line, and I wouldn’t be able to avoid her there. I’d thought bringing security would bring attention to me. How did the press know I would be here today? Why did I underestimate them? I’m such an idiot.
“Look, I’m on your side. You had a miscarriage, and Paul Crane left you. Were you his sugar baby on Lollipop?”
“I wasn’t a sugar baby, and Paul wasn’t my sugar daddy,” I kept my tone even. “Now, would you please leave me alone?”
I turned to walk in the opposite direction, but she still followed, calling to me, “Your ex-dormmate, Sophie Wilks, shared in a recent interview that you started seeing Paul Crane after a Lollipop event in Manhattan. She claims you were seeking a sugar daddy to help you out financially.”
Bile rose in my throat. Sophie doing an interview hadn’t surprised me—she would do whatever she could to save herself. But she wasn’t lying.
