CHAPTER 3 — THE EXIT THAT WASN’T SAFE
The airport felt different as we stepped off the plane.
Not busy.
Not chaotic.
Focused.
Like someone had pulled attention toward us without anyone realizing it.
I kept my head down like Marcus told me.
But I could still feel it.
Eyes.
Phones lowering.
Whispers.
People recognizing him.
We reached the jet bridge.
That’s when Marcus slowed slightly.
Not because he was unsure.
Because he was checking something.
Two men in suits appeared ahead.
Blocking the exit.
They didn’t speak at first.
They just looked at Marcus.
Then at me.
Then at Annie.
“Mr. Whitmore,” one of them said.
“Your relocation transport is ready.”
Marcus didn’t stop walking.
“I didn’t request one,” he replied.
The man stepped slightly to the side.
“You did not,” he said.
“But it was arranged for you.”
Something about that sentence made my skin crawl.
Not what was said.
What wasn’t.
Marcus tightened his grip on my hand slightly.
“Emily,” he said under his breath.
“Don’t react to anything you see in the next thirty seconds.”
That was not comforting.
That was terrifying.
Then everything changed.
A second group appeared at the far end of the corridor.
Then another near the escalators.
Then another by the exit doors.
We were surrounded.
Quietly.
Efficiently.
Professionally.
My breathing sped up.
“Marcus…” I whispered.
He didn’t look at me.
“Keep walking,” he said.
Then he added something colder.
“They found the wrong version of me.”
May you like
And for the first time since I met him—
I believed I might be in danger too.
