Page 117 of Kept in the Dark

I set the papers aside to save them, and reach into the bag, extracting a thick, heavy stack that’s bound together with a few rubber bands. On top is a new, freshly printed ID that names me Jenna Jones from Iowa. I squint. “Did Wesley give me a porn name?” I ask, flashing Eleanor the ID, hoping to lighten the mood that has been spiraling down since she put the car in park.

Her smile is half-hearted at best. “Sounds like a thing he’d do.”

Under that is a tri-folded resume that I’ll need to study later, and under that is…

“Whoa,” Eleanor croaks, echoing my thoughts exactly.

It’s a two-inch thick stack of 20s. Thousands of dollars in cash. I’ve never held thousands of dollars in cash before. “What the…”

“Whoa,” she repeats, placing a hand across mine and lowering them into my lap as she looks furtively around. “Let’s not go flashing that shit around… This isn’t the nicest area. Jesus, how much is that?”

“Enough to be hush money,” I say, my voice sounding hollow.

Her face twists at that. “Or… maybe he’s trying to take care of you the only way he thinks you’ll let him,” she suggests.

I chew on my lip and tuck the money back into the envelope. Heart racing, I reach for the note.

Leave everything behind. It will be repossessed and sold off, and create a paper trail that leads away from you. Do not use your name or identifying factors again. Use cash to leave town, take the bus to a city that is walkable, or try to find an old used car that someone will let you pay for in cash without a title transfer. You may need to go to a chop shop. Medium-sized cities in rural states are best—you can get lost in crowds, but organized crime is unlikely to have a significant presence.

Take self-defense lessons and buy a gun at a trade show so there is no paper trail. Do not start looking for a job until Wesley sends you some new identification. The cash should last you several months. Get an apartment somewhere with excellent security and be friendly with the guards becausethey will protect you better if they like you.Avoid Russian MenStay away from any businesses run by Russians.

Stay s

Be s

Goodb

?? ????????? ??? ?????? ? ?????.

- Dimitri

“Do you have a translation app on your phone?” I croak.

She hands me her device, open to Russian-to-English, and I hover the camera over the unfamiliar letters. Then, I shut my eyes.

You take my heart with you.

I thought I was all cried out. I’m practically dehydrated from it. At the very least, I assumed that I’d gotten it out of my system and I was safe from my emotions leaking out onto my face. Apparently not.

It’s not the fact that his final message to me reads like a laundry list of advice for how to be on the run. It’s not the fact that for the most part, it’s practical, factual, and unemotional. It’s not even those final words. None of that is what pushes me over the edge.

It’s that I’m never going to hear him call meNee-coleagain.

A tear drops onto the page, pulling the ink up into its droplet and making it swirl around. I brush it away with trembling fingers, streaking and smudging some of the other words. Frowning, I wipe my cheeks so another doesn’t fall.

I can’t ruin this. It’s all I have of him. I’ll need to laminate it or something if I want to keep it forever.

Ugh. What is the matter with me? I’m supposed to be moving on, not planning on how to save and keep the broken pieces of this brief time in my life.

My facial expressions must display my internal torment, because Eleanor’s brows come together in concern. “Nicole, you’re scaring me. Please tell me what happened,” she begs.

“Nothing happened,” I say, hearing the unsteady rhythm of my voice. “I just can’t stay. I can’t live like this.”

“I didn’t realize you were so unhappy here,” she says softly after a moment.

“I’m…” I trail off, glancing up out the front window of the car, watching as a few people board one of the buses.

Idly, I wonder where that bus is going, but not with the same kind of squirmy thrill I normally would. It strikes me that I’ve never been sad like this, leaving a place. I’ve been excited, maybe a bit nervous, but generally in a positive state of mind. I normally love a fresh start. But this time… I can’t help thinking about how lonely I’m going to be. Again. And this time, I won’t have anyone to blame but myself.