Lina felt like she had just stepped into another world.
No—been pulled into one.
"Thank you," Lina murmured.
The attendant nodded and quietly left her alone.
Lina sank onto the edge of the bed, exhaling slowly. Her body ached from tension, and her mind was racing, but for the first ti in what felt like an eternity, she allowed herself a mont to just be. To sit. To breathe.
She looked at herself in the mirror. Her makeup had smudged, her hair was a ss, and her clothes were wrinkled from hiding and running.
But her eyes . . . they looked different. Like soone who’d walked through fire and survived.
"You’re soone who’s running . . . and soone who might need a place to land."
Fredrich’s words echoed again.
She didn’t know who he truly was or what he wanted. But he hadn’t hurt her. He hadn’t questioned her every move or judged her for what she’d done.
Instead, he gave her space. Offered her safety. That was more than anyone else had done in a long ti.
Or rather, his actions were suspicious. At first, he looked ready to kill her and toss her off the plane the mont he saw her.
But then, within a minute, his entire deanor shifted—calm, composed, almost familiar, as if he had known her for a long ti.
She reached into her carry-on bag and pulled out her phone. No signal, of course. No SIM card anymore either—she had tossed it before heading to the airport.
But there was a wireless network listed. Locked. Encrypted. Elite.
She hesitated. Then gave up trying. She wouldn’t risk anything right now. Not while she was still in the air.
Curling up on the bed, she hugged her knees to her chest and rested her head against the pillow. The steady hum of the engines outside lulled her as her eyes grew heavier.
And for once, Lina allowed herself the smallest hope.
Maybe this detour wasn’t a disaster.
Maybe it was a chance.
The rhythmic hum of the engines pulsed through the cabin like a lullaby, and despite herself, Lina dozed off. She didn’t know how long she slept—only that when she opened her eyes again, the light outside the window had deepened into a dusky violet, and the clouds had darkened to the color of shadows.
For a mont, she forgot where she was. The silk sheets under her, the subtle scent of lavender, and the quiet pressure in her ears reminded her she was still in the sky. Still flying. Still running.
She sat up slowly, stretching her stiff arms and taking in the unfamiliar room again. The jet was still airborne. That ant they’re not yet in Greece.
Her stomach growled, and she realized she hadn’t eaten anything since the granola bar she cramd into her bag a few hours ago. She stood, smoothed down her shirt, and walked barefoot toward the door.
The hallway was dim, lit only by soft overhead lights. She stepped carefully, as if trying not to disturb the balance of this strange dream-like place.
She found Fredrich in the main lounge, sitting on a leather seat, a thick book open in his hand. He looked up as she entered, setting the book aside.
"You’re awake," he said simply.
"Yeah," Lina replied, hugging her arms around herself. "I didn’t an to sleep that long."
"I figured you needed it."
There was a plate of food on the table beside him—grilled chicken, stead vegetables, and a small bowl of soup. Another tray sat nearby, untouched, clearly ant for her.
"Sit," he said, gesturing. "Eat."
Lina hesitated, then walked over and sat across from him. The food slled divine. She picked up the silverware and began eating slowly, watching him between bites.
Fredrich didn’t speak at first. He returned to his book, flipping through the pages in that calm, thodical way of his. It made her wonder how soone so composed could tolerate the chaos of a stranger sneaking onto his plane.
"Do you always travel like this?" she asked, breaking the silence.
He looked up. "Like what?"
"Alone. In a jet. With a library, gourt food, and—" she gestured vaguely "—a whole floating palace."
He gave a small chuckle. "Not always. But when I do, I prefer not to be disturbed."
She paused, setting her fork down. Well that was a subtle way for him to say don’t disturb him. "And yet . . . you didn’t throw out."
"I considered it," he said, a teasing glint in his eye. "But you looked like a wet cat when I found you."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Charming."
Fredrich set the book down and leaned back, studying her. "Why were you really running, Lina?"
She stiffened.
"I know you said it was soone. But was it fear? Guilt? Revenge?"
Her hands trembled slightly. She didn’t want to talk about it. Not really. But sothing about the way he asked . . . It wasn’t probing. It wasn’t judgntal. It was just curious. And sohow that made it harder to lie.
"He hurt ," she said after a long silence. "In ways I didn’t even understand until it was too late."
Fredrich didn’t speak. He waited.
Lina swallowed. "He had power. Not just wealth, but control over people. Over everything. I thought I could keep up. I thought I could be strong. But the more I stayed, the more I disappeared."
"And then one day, I found out I was pregnant," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "And I thought . . . maybe that would be sothing mine. Sothing he couldn’t touch. But he didn’t want it. And he made sure I didn’t have it."
Fredrich’s expression darkened.
"I didn’t even get a choice," she continued. "It was taken from like . . . like I didn’t matter at all. Like we didn’t matter at all."
The jet’s silence wrapped around them like a shroud. Fredrich leaned forward, hands clasped loosely in front of him.
"I’m sorry," he said quietly.
She blinked. Sohow, that was the last thing she expected from him. But hearing it felt like soone had placed a hand on her back—gently, supportively.
"Most people don’t say that," Lina whispered. "They either look away or tell to move on."
"You don’t move on from sothing like that," Fredrich said. "You survive it. And then . . . eventually, you learn how to breathe again."
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