Back to Virginia

Lia's belongings were packed as her watch chimed the 30 minute mark. Nick was always late and this time, it was a good thing.

She'd slipped out the fire escape with her bags in hand. The three floors it took to make it to the bottom were a breeze. After all, her med cuff was on, quickly healing the bruises and bite marks. She could feel the soreness of her joints dissipate.

The taxi took her to the airport the slowest way possible. She felt her impatience growing as he tried to persuade her to give him her phone number. Thankfully, she'd pretended she didn't speak French. If she wasn't in such a hurry, she would've instilled fear in his soul for talking to any woman as crudely as he was speaking to her now.

As they pulled up to the departures, she handed him 50€. When she went to pull her hand away, he grabbed her wrist. Within a blink of an eye she'd broken his. She could still hear him yelping in French as she entered the automatic doors.

This time, without her Merc assignment to speed the process, customs and security were painstakingly slow. By the time she was finished, she had to hustle to make it before the gate closed. She was one of the last people to board. A sigh of relief washed over her as she took her first class seat by the window. No one was in the seat next to her.

Methodically she pulled the golden seal away from the champagne bottle. She untwisted the metal holding the mushroom cork in place. With her thumb she gently pushed until POP! Without spilling a single drop, she filled her glass to the brim. The tiny champagne bottle was the perfect size. She loved when things worked out her way.

The attendant mentioned waiting on one more passenger before closing the gate. There was two minutes to spare before they were to go over the security protocols.

She'd always liked the window seat. The rain on the pane looked like shooting stars across the glass. Some small drops streaked the window in waves like lightening. Her favorite part was when they coasted above the clouds, it looked like an endless sea of white foam. Or cotton candy. The tufts you could pluck and pop into your mouth for a sugary delight.

Sometimes it looked like a snowy tundra. Other times it appeared to be a barren wasteland. The hay bales in Virginia looked like tater tots from above and they calmed her with the knowing she was almost home.

"Is this seat taken?"

She hasn't realized the final passenger had boarded. Her glass was halfway to her lips when she turned and froze. Of course she couldn't outrun him. He would always find her, and she would always pay the price.