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I jump into action, pushing all my emotions to the furthest part of my mind. This isn’t about me. It’s for Noelle. It’s for her future, and most importantly, it’s for all of our freedom. It’s what Mom would’ve wanted.

I shove all the clothes that I’ve left around the room into my suitcase and sprint into the bathroom. Thankfully, it’s just the one tracksuit since we didn’t even get around to unpacking properly.

Even his toiletries are still here. Antonio is pretty particular about his shower set up, so the fact that he just left it all here is more fucked up than I could’ve thought. At least we’ll both be free of each other. I’m better off alone than with a man who left me in the still of the night because he was too cowardly to face me.

I’m shoving the last of my things into my bags when Pierre comes into the room.

“You ready?”

In an exasperated breath, everything I’ve been holding back comes flooding to the surface as I struggle to close the stupid suitcase.

“Theá…”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” He stops me.

“I-I didn’t think he would just leave.”

“Come here. It’s okay.” Pierre wraps me in his arms and gently rubs my back. “This is why I told you to be careful; every face wears a mask.”

“It was a really pretty mask.”

“It was very pretty,” Pierre agrees, and my sobs turn to chuckles. “What? I can’t lie about a good-looking man, even you know that.”

“Okay, I’m done being sad. For now, let’s go meet up with Noelle.”

Once we’re in the airport, Pierre hands me a cap, sunglasses, and a bag. “There’s a wig in there. Head into the bathroom and put it on, then we’ll meet you at the gate.”

I swallow as I nod. It feels surreal. This is some shit out of a movie, this shouldn’t be my life. But knowing my father, he’s got his claws so deep in the cartel they’ve probably got eyes in every country France ever colonized.

I rush into one of the bathroom stalls and set my phone up on the toilet to use as a mirror. My eyes land on the lack of signal. I haven’t had any since I woke up this morning, and even with Wi-Fi, nothing is working. Thankfully, Pierre is from the Stone Age and printed out everything we’d need.

With one final adjustment, I head out and do a final once over in the mirror. Hmmm, I’d look good with copper hair.

I stumble around the airport for a while before finally finding our gate and spotting my siblings. Noelle is glaring at me. I had a feeling this would be a bit more difficult for her. “You can’t just do this, Theá. I have a life in Paris,” she says as I approach.

“Youhada life in Paris,” Pierre says, and she glares at him.

“Pierre is right. It may have felt like you did, but the second you were done studying or whenever Dad decided he needed you to do something, that little life would’ve come crumbling down.”

“Just because that happened to you doesn’t mean it’ll happen to me!” she whisper-yells.

“I said the same thing about Mom, and look where that got me.” With those words, the mood shifts drastically, and everyone falls silent.

“Here are your passports.” Pierre hands us our documents, and I open it, running an eye over my new persona.

Zara Hendricks.

It feels foreign. Almost as foreign as Vitale felt behind my name.

“I wouldn’t have planned this with Theá if I didn’t believe you all would be better off away from him,” Pierre says lowly.

“So a life on the run is better than the comfortable one we had?” Noelle asks.

“That comfortability you felt was temporary,” I remind her.

“And you won’t be on the run. I called in some favours, and we’ll be practically invisible where we’re going.”