The hum of the baggage claim carousel felt deafening as Leah stood beside her partner, Mark, staring down at a bright yellow suitcase that had just slid onto the belt.
Leah’s breath caught in her throat. Her eyes went wide with pure panic. She recognized that exact bag—it was identical to her own, but it belonged to someone else, someone she had been trying desperately to escape.
“Wait,” Leah gasped, stepping forward and pointing at the luggage. “That’s mine, too.”
Mark chuckled, shaking his head. “They just look alike.”
Needing to prove it, Leah unlatched the suitcase and threw open the lid. Pushing past a folded red coat, her hand brushed against something vibrating beneath the fabric. She pulled out a glowing smartphone. The screen flashed an incoming call from an unknown number labeled “Oav lib-hot”.
Mark’s friendly demeanor vanished instantly. His expression hardened into something chilling.
“Lia,” Mark said, his voice dropping an octave as he stepped closer, blocking her escape path. “Don’t answer that.”
Leah stared at him, the horrifying realization washing over her. The man standing beside her wasn’t her partner—he was the operative sent to intercept her.
“Is Adam standing beside you?” the muffled voice from the phone echoed into the quiet terminal.
Leah dropped the phone, turned on her heel, and ran into the crowded terminal, praying she could outrun the web of lies she had just stepped into.
Adrenaline surged through Leah’s veins as she wove frantically through the sea of late-night travelers, her boots clacking against the slick terminal floor. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw “Mark” pushing aggressively through the crowd behind her, his eyes locked onto her like a heat-seeking missile. He wasn’t just a casual travel companion; he was a trained professional, and he was closing the distance fast.
Spotting a pair of revolving exit doors leading out to the curbside drop-off zone, Leah threw her weight against them. The cool, damp night air hit her face instantly as she burst outside into the rain. She didn’t dare wait for a taxi. Instead, she bolted toward the municipal bus bays where a late-night transit bus was idling, its doors still open to passengers.
She scrambled up the steps, panting heavily, and shoved past the driver into the dim interior, collapsing into a back-row seat just as Mark emerged from the terminal doors. Through the rain-streaked glass, she watched him scan the pavement, realizing she had slipped through his fingers—for now.
As the bus pulled away from the curb and merged into the dark highway traffic, Leah pressed her shaking hands against her face. She was safe from him tonight, but the phone call at the airport changed everything. Adam was out there, and the syndicate knew her every move. She pulled her hood down low, realizing her old life was entirely gone; from this second forward, she was truly on her own.
