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“Do you require medical assistance?”

“I require Texas.”

Her fingers hover over the keyboard.

“Austin.”

She types.

I hand her my credit card.

From there, everything takes too long.

Security.

The walk to the gate.

Boarding.

Every person who gets too close.

Every man who looks vaguely familiar.

Every time someone says something behind me.

I keep moving.

On the plane, I find my seat and put my bag underneath the one in front of me.

Window.

Good.

The woman beside me smiles.

I smile back because apparently that is still a thing people do.

The cabin door closes.

For the first time all night, there is nowhere else I need to run.

The flight attendant begins the safety demonstration.

I reach for the airsick bag in the seat pocket in front of me, lean forward, and throw up.

The woman next to me asks if I’m okay.

“I’m fine. Turbulence.”

We haven’t taken off yet.

CHAPTER 50

ANONYMOUS

The report arrives before anyone in Lisbon has called to explain.

An excellent indication that I am about to be disappointed.