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“I know it’s an expression, but she’s not a ‘girl,’ and we aren’t ‘friends.’ She’s my other half. Ivy is the closest person I’ll ever know in my life.”
“When you’re on vacation with Ivy,” Caroline says. “Remember what I said about when and where to wear this clothing and to be as honest as possible. It’ll make things easier later when she has to learn the truth.”
“I will do my best,” I say, but in truth, I have no idea how to do that face-to-face. I might end up telling her everything in the first hour we meet.
Eighteen
March 11th, 2023
Ivy
“Ms. Ivy Jefferies?”
“Yes?”
“This is odd. I have two seats reserved for you.” The woman in the airline uniform does some typing. “I have a first-class ticket under the same name and the same passport. Did you accidentally book twice?”
My heart leaps.
“Can you tell me who booked the other ticket?”
I can see the conflict in her eyes. “I can’t tell you who purchased the ticket. Do you want the first-class seat?”
“Is it refundable to the person who bought it?”
“It is, but if you’re going there anyway…” she trails off.
Of course, Sem did this. It’s too much, but the flight attendant is right. If I’m still getting on the flight, I might as well take it. I can fly economy back if all of this doesn’t work out. “I’ll take the first-class ticket,” I say, waiting for my bag to be checked in. Then I’m told where to go for the first-class lounge.
I walk away from the desk and then text Sem.
Did you book me the first class after I told you I’d buy my own ticket?
You did buy your own ticket. I just wanted you to be comfortable.
Don’t you like it?
I don’t know, I’ve never been in first class.
Me neither. Safe travels.
Where are you flying in from?
It’s classified, but I’ll meet you at the hotel. I’m counting the minutes now.
Nine-hundred and sixty-one minutes.
He ‘hearts’ my last text, and then I close my phone as I approach security for business and first-class travelers. There’s a very short line, and the security is much more polite here.
I walk to the first-class lounge. I’ve never been here before. I ate before I came to the airport, so I just have a diet soda and think about Sem. I look at the picture from Halloween on my phone, and it’s difficult to imagine that I’m going to be seeing him in person again. Then I look at photos of the resort. It looks amazing. Blue waters and white sandy beaches. I then triple-check the hotel reservation. We have two rooms—one in my name and one in his. Sem has been true to his word. Scarlett even phoned the hotel to make sure it was all real and assured me and herself that I probably wasn’t going to be trafficked. It all seems very real, especially after her friend Rose looked up the same hotel on the website and pretended to want to book a room, and they were very accommodating. So, if it was a human trafficking scam, they went to great lengths to hire a lot of different people to make it look like a five-star resort in Greece, including thousands of online reviews.
Once it’s time to board the plane, I am one of the first onboard and am shown to my seat, which also includes a bag of toiletries and pajamas. Apparently, my seat transforms into a bed.
First-class is almost empty, and I have a pleasant trip to Athens. Once in Athens airport, the sound of Greek and the international mix of travelers spark my curiosity. I’m in a foreign country for the first time. It’s both very exciting and a little scary. I walk with my hand on my tote bag as I find immigration. Once it’s my turn, I present my passport to the Greek man who has police written on his uniform. He checks my passport on his computer and asks me, “What are your plans in Greece?”
“I’m meeting my friend at a resort on the island of Santorini.”
“Is your friend Greek?”
