He bent and whispered something into Moretti’s ear.
Moretti’s face went still.
‘What?’ I asked.
‘David’s man is downstairs.’
The old terror surged instantly.
Moretti stood.
‘Stay here.’
I hated the order before he finished speaking.
‘No.’
He turned.
‘I am done hiding in rooms while men decide what happens to me.’
Elena studied me.
Moretti did too.
Then he nodded.
‘Fine.’
We did not confront the man dramatically.
There were no threats in the terminal, no weapons drawn, no shouting.
Moretti did something far more effective.
He had airport security brought to the lounge.
The man waiting downstairs had been circling the arrivals area while carrying a photograph of me on his phone.
Security questioned him.
When he claimed he was a family friend sent to help, I was asked directly whether I knew him.
I looked through the glass at a stranger who had crossed a city because my husband believed I could still be retrieved.
‘No,’ I said.
My voice did not shake.
‘I do not know him, and I do not want him near me.’
That statement became the first official record I made after leaving David.
Elena made sure I received a copy.
By evening, I was sitting in a hotel room registered without David’s access to the reservation.
My cousin had been contacted safely through Elena rather than through my phone.
She cried when she heard my voice.
Not because she was angry.
Because she had wondered for years whether I was okay.
‘I should have called you,’ I whispered.
‘You’re calling now.’
She told me I could come to her.
No questions first.
No judgment.
Just come.
I cried after the call ended.
Not quietly.
Not neatly.
I cried for the years I had spent believing everyone would turn away, for every time David had told me no one wanted me, for the absurd relief of discovering one person still did.
Moretti had remained by the window during the call.
When I finished, he placed a fresh copy of the business card on the table.
‘The number reaches people who can contact Elena if you need her.’
‘And you?’
‘Possibly.’
I almost laughed.
‘That sounds intentionally vague.’
‘It is.’
His phone rang.
He looked at the screen but did not answer immediately.
‘David?’ I asked.
‘Someone speaking for him.’
My body reacted before my mind did.
