Total pages in book: 208
Estimated words: 207002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1035(@200wpm)___ 828(@250wpm)___ 690(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1035(@200wpm)___ 828(@250wpm)___ 690(@300wpm)
I felt like a wayward child. Like a pet being hand delivered to its abusive owner.
“I need some money,” I muttered as we shuffled forward, next in line.
“I have a care package to give you when we’ve left airside.” He nodded at the immigration officer as we were beckoned forward.
My heart pounded as I went with him, my gaze darting around the cavernous hall, searching, fearing, waiting.
Would Cem grab me the moment I stepped out of the airport?
Would he wait until I was in the city?
How would he do it?
Does he even know I’ve landed?
Stupid question.
Of course, he knew.
He knew my flight number.
He probably had the whole airport surrounded.
I didn’t watch as the border agent studied my temporary travel documents and stamped Roger’s crisp, envy-inducing Australian passport. The sounds of my mother tongue flowed from three agents chatting in a booth down the line.
All around me, English threaded with Turkish, and a part of me that’d missed the rhythm and flow of my own tongue found a smidgen of happiness.
English was now the language I dreamed in, counted in, lived in. It’d become the tongue I cursed and conversed in, but Turkish would always be the language of my heart.
I suddenly wished I’d taught Neri more.
I wished I’d shared every part of myself with her so she could whisper into the darkness, and I might hear her, feel her, and continue loving her even so far away.
“Come on,” Roger commanded as heavy stamps pounded on our documents, and we were cleared for entry. He nodded at the agent, scooped everything up, then guided me forward.
Each step, my hackles rose.
Pain from my injuries was muted beneath my fear.
Each distance we travelled, I grew tense and jumpy and more sensitive than I’d been in years. My skin buzzed. The hair on the back of my neck rose. My entire body hummed to a different frequency, just waiting to be shot.
Roger went to baggage reclaim. We stood silently side by side while he waited for a small silver suitcase to appear. Once he’d snagged it, he marched toward the final set of doors. The final frontier between me staying alive and dying.
I slammed on the brakes, pain in my hip and ribs flaring.
I shook my head.
My voice cracked as I breathed, “Give me some money. I need to buy a phone. Right now.”
He studied me. Noticed the sweat on my upper lip and the jittery shakes of my hands. His stern face softened as he reached into his backpack and pulled out a manila folder. “Here.”
Snatching it, I peered inside. The paperwork I’d been forced to sign in that awful interview room was there, acknowledging that I could never return to Australia. My statement that I didn’t know Anna, Jack, or Nerida Taylor, and the scant information I’d given on my dead family, why we’d run, and why I couldn’t be deported.
Not that it’d made a shit tonne of difference.
Grabbing the neat bundle of Turkish Lira beneath the papers, I swiftly counted money that I hadn’t held in so long. It seemed foreign after the bright plastic bills of Australian currency.
“There’s the equivalent of three hundred Aussie dollars there.” Roger squeezed his nape. “Just enough to get you home and into the city. I’m sure your father will support you while you get back on your feet.”
I didn’t bother replying.
I was done trying to convince him of the man my father was.
Shoving the Lira into my jeans pocket—the jeans that I’d been provided with after a week in detention—I rubbed my sore ribs beneath my black t-shirt, cursed the discomfort in my hip, and looked at the last Australian man I’d ever see. “Are we done here?”
“No.” He frowned. “I have to spend the night. There isn’t another flight home until tomorrow. Tell you what, I’ll pay the fare to get into the city. Save that cash for something else.”
My mind raced.
I wanted to be alone so I could figure out how the fuck I could stay alive and protect Neri.
But...if I was with him, the chances of getting pounced on were less.
Unless Cem’s waiting right outside in the arrival hall.
My lungs stuck together.
This might be my last chance.
“Let me buy a phone on the way out, and I’ll catch a ride with you.”
“Okay.” Roger smiled. “I need some data to call home myself.”
Silently, we headed toward the doors from baggage reclaim to Turkish soil. People waved and leaned over the barrier, looking for loved ones as they drifted out.
My heart leaped into my mouth as I scanned the many happy faces.
Please.
Don’t be here.
I need more time.
I need to hear her...
I exhaled heavily as I didn’t spot a man who looked like me.
No burly guards.
No hitmen who didn’t belong.
My eyes skipped all over the place as Roger beelined for the phone kiosks and bought a local SIM for his own phone. Grabbing the cheapest phone I could, I paid, tossed out the box, and did my best not to run.